Lost Without You
by SourNoodles
Summary: Upon returning to the bathroom once more; this time to seal Chloe's fate, Max instead sacrifices herself. Chloe is now left to cope with the death of her best friend and to make sense of everything that Max had endured before her demise, including her powers.
1. Faded

**Chapter 1: Faded**

Max's vision was consumed by a bright white flash and she heard the familiar click of an instant camera capturing an image. Her blindness faded away and the sight of a yellow instant camera entered her view. Around her in the background was bathroom tile, and to her left, the metal wall of an empty bathroom stall.

The camera ejected a Polaroid and Max delicately pinched the edge of the picture and retrieved it. She returned the camera to its home in her messenger bag and stared into her new image.

The photograph displayed a bright blue butterfly perched on an aged mop bucket; the normally bland scene brought to life by a hint of morpho blue. Max's eyes were captivated by the insect, its colour almost glowing.

Max tore the photo in half; the butterfly's vibrant colour dying as the divided pieces gently descended to the bathroom floor.

The brunette peeked her head around the stall, her eyes drawn to the wooden door that separated the bathroom from the ever-so oblivious Blackwell Academy.

Max jumped at the sound of the door opening, and she darted her head back behind cover to avoid detection. She heard the echoing footsteps of Nathan Prescott as he crossed that very border.

"It's cool Nathan, don't stress. You're okay bro, just count to three…" Max almost mouthed the blonde boy's words; she had witnessed this scene too many times, not only during her first involvement a week ago, but also as a recurring nightmare that haunted her. Max's heart sunk as did her body when she heard the door open once again as the echoing footsteps of boots filled her ears. She knew exactly who had just entered; Chloe. Max buried her head into her retracted legs and struggled to fight back tears. She knew she had to stay strong; for herself, for Arcadia Bay, for Chloe.

"So what do you want?" Max heard Nathan demand.

"I hope you checked the perimeter as my step-ass would say. Now, let's talk bidness." The sound of Chloe's voice brought pleasure to Max's ears, but also an agonizing burn, as she knew the words Chloe spoke would be her last.

The rest of the scene played out exactly how Max knew it would; Chloe's threats, Nathan's struggle to retain sanity, the heated feud between the two that rapidly fueled itself from the fury they spat.

"You don't know who the fuck I am, or who you're messing around with!" Nathan carried a shuddering insanity to his already cold voice and Max knew the exact action that Nathan pulled.

"Where'd you get that? What are you doing? Come on, put that thing down!" Chloe pleaded for her life and Max heard the statuses swap. Such a small firearm was enough to give Nathan pure control over the already stumbling situation.

As if by instinct, Max jumped to her feet and darted around the stall that had hid her until now.

"Get away from her you freak!" The words shot out of Max beyond her own self control and Nathan bolted around to face the surprising voice.

"What the fuck?!" Nathan's words were the last that Max heard before she was deafened by the ear piercing sound of a gunshot. In that very moment, Max felt a sharp splintering pain in her upper abdomen, and her eyes met Chloe's azure gaze; the bluenette's face painted with a mix of shock, confusion, and agony. Her eyes were immediately drawn to Max's lower torso; the exact location where Max felt the growing pain, and now the warm feeling of her soaked clothing touching her skin.

"Max?..." The sound of her name brought joy to Max, but the pain was becoming unbearable. The brunette drew her attention to her stomach and Max noticed a large stain of crimson that drenched her pink shirt.

"Chl…Chloe…" Max struggled to push out her best friend's name as her body grew weak and her legs gave in. "You're…you're alive…" Those were the last words that spilled from Max's mouth before she collapsed to the cold bathroom floor.

" **MAX!** " Chloe shrieked her friend's name and dashed to her aid, shoving the traumatized Nathan into the sinks along the way; his gun dropping to the ground with a loud clatter.

Chloe dropped to the floor and took her bleeding friend in her arms; her right hand immediately clutching the bullet wound and becoming sodden in red. Max brought her shaking hand to the bluenette's cheek and her icicle-like fingers came in contact with Chloe's pale skin.

"Chloe…You're…you're alive…" Max whispered in relief. Her words poured out in a shaking mutter, but to Chloe, it was all she could hear.

"Max, stay with me! Just hold on!" Chloe pleaded her friend to stay alive. "HELP!" Chloe's head swung to the front door and she realized that Nathan had already fled; the gun nowhere to be found. "HELP PLEASE!" Chloe's cries continued to echo across the empty room.

:"Chloe…" Chloe returned her attention to Max as she hear her name. "I couldn't do it…You couldn't die…You're…you're okay now…Chloe…You're safe…" Chloe stared into Max's eyes with tears overflowing as confusion built up in the back of her mind as she wondered what her friend meant, but she couldn't care. All that mattered to her at that moment was Max. Chloe scrambled to take her coat off and she brought it to Max's wound. The bluenette was clueless in terms of first aid; but her initial instinct was to try and slow the bleeding.

"Max, stop talking. Don't…don't stress yourself. You're gonna…you'll be fine, just _please_ stay with me!" Chloe tried to reassure her friend through tears, despite the panic manifesting in the girl's mind.

"Chloe…I…I love you…" The words finally escaped Max's shuddering lips; it was all she wanted to say. The brunette raised her left arm and wrapped her hand around the back of Chloe's neck and she delicately pulled the girl's face to her own.

The two met in a passionate kiss; the taste of Chloe's salty tears mixing with the taste of Max. Chloe was still utterly confused, but she couldn't care. The two embraced each other until Chloe felt Max's tongue grow still and her lips turn icy cold. A final breath escaped the injured girl's mouth as her hand slid off Chloe's neck, landing on the floor beside her with a thud.

Chloe drew her head away to be greeted by the lifeless face of Max; her eyes shut and mouth ajar. Chloe tried to hold back the oncoming waterfall of grief that began to well up in her sapphire eyes as her bloodied hand reached Max's pale face; the brunette's own blood being smeared on her cheek as Chloe stroked her thumb across the delicate skin.

"Max?..." Chloe whispered through her trembling lips. "Max, please…" The silence was broken by the sound of yet another gunshot, this time emitting from behind the bathroom door. Chloe hadn't cared about the outside world for the moment; background sounds were drowned out by her crowded mind.

Moments later, Chloe heard the door crash open as David Madsen rushed in and stop in his tracks once he laid eyes the gruesome scene.

"Oh my god…" David spoke his thoughts. "Somebody get an ambulance!"

Chloe continued to shut the world out and the booming voice of her step-father was filtered out into a faint squeak. She felt a massive weight bearing down on her head as the experiences that nearly shattered her long ago escaped the back of her mind to haunt her once more; Rachel's disappearance, her father's death, and being abandoned by the very friend that she held in her arms.

Chloe always dreamed of Max returning to her after those cruel years of loneliness, but never like this. She had everything planned ahead in her mind; she would guilt trip Max for leaving her, but ultimately forgive her, then the two would pick up where they left off five years ago.

 _The two dancing to Chloe's favourite music; their giggling almost as loud as the guitar and drums…_

 _Faded._

 _Catching up on the events that they each experienced the past half decade over a delicious meal at the Two Whales Diner…_

 _Faded._

 _Silently watching the sun set over Arcadia Bay, sitting at the bench by the lighthouse; nostalgia and serenity drowning their sorrows in sheer beauty…_

 _Faded._

 _A road trip to Portland with Rachel joining them…_

 _Faded._

Dreams burning away like paper.

Chloe felt a sharp tug from behind her, but she still ignored everything around her besides Max. She heard the faint sound of screaming voices around her; quiet like whispers.

"Chloe! The paramedics are here! Let go of Max! You can come with her on the ambulance, just let them take her!" David tried to persuade Chloe to release Max from her grasp, but the girl heard nothing. "Fuck it! I'm sorry Chloe." David forcefully pulled his step-daughter away from Max's body; the unexpected strength dragging her away from her best friend.

" **NO! MAX!** " Chloe's voice pierced the room and she desperately flailed her arms to Max; fighting to escape her step-dad's grip. David restrained Chloe with a deep pain in his chest. " **LET GO OF ME YOU SON OF A BITCH!** "He hated doing this to his already distressed step-daughter, but Max's life was his priority.

Two paramedics rushed in pushing a stretcher and crouched down beside Max.

"I don't have a pulse!" The words from the paramedic hit Chloe like a bullet. They raised Max onto the stretcher and scrambled out of the bathroom to the front door, hoping they could bring life back into Max somehow.

Chloe thrust her elbow into David's stomach and the man winced in pain, releasing his grasp which allowed Chloe to escape.

The girl carelessly shoved the petrified students surrounding the bathroom entrance, and she nearly tripped over the leg of Nathan's lifeless body. Blood poured out onto the floor next to him from his temple; his gun resting on his hand. The bluenette ignored the traumatizing sight and darted for the front door, chasing after Max.

* * *

Chloe's entire body shook uncontrollably as she stared at the pearl floor while sitting on one of the navy blue plastic seats backed on the wall that separated her and the surgery room. Her mind raced with thoughts and her head ached from the emotional pain. Tears had formed a small puddle on the floor beneath her; droplets falling from her bloodshot eyes like a tap.

 _She has to be okay. She_ has _to. Please, if there is some sort of God out there, I am begging you;_ please _don't take Max away. Please._

Chloe couldn't bear with the thought of losing Max. This was the first time she saw her in five years; the last time being a painful goodbye as the bluenette watched her friend enter her father's minivan to be taken miles away to Seattle, only a month after the death of Chloe's father.

During her initial time of isolation, Chloe was furious that Max had made little to no contact with her. She was confused, angry, but also willing to forgive. She hated Max for the silence, but deep down, she was still her best friend, and nothing would change that. Rachel came along soon after and Chloe almost forgot about Max as she was too distracted by her new friend that she found little time to care about the distant brunette. However, old ghosts returned to haunt her as her thoughts of her friend consumed her mind once more. She missed her more than anything in the world, and she feared that Max had forgotten about her and that she had made new friends, just as she had found Rachel.

She tried to accept the fact that the other girl had moved on and that she would never see her again, but she couldn't. Everything around her reminded her of Max. Arcadia Bay had been the two girls' playground for years, and every inch of the town held some sort of memory between the two. Chloe's obsession for Max bled into her friendship with Rachel, so much that she turned away from the rebellious girl for some time, which only irritated Rachel.

The two eventually made amends and returned to their normal routines of causing trouble, but Chloe still couldn't ignore the thoughts of Max in her mind. She felt herself developing awkward feelings for the brunette, and contemplated whether or not they were romantic or just something entirely different. She even tried to force herself to fall for Rachel in order to possibly forget about Max, but she still wanted the other girl desperately.

Years passed and Chloe eventually managed to bury her feelings away in her mind. She enjoyed her moments with Rachel up until the fateful day she disappeared.

Chloe had fallen into a state of loneliness, confusion, and desperation; her past issues with abandonment catching up to her to cause her more pain. For six months, Chloe was utterly lost and even considered joining her father in the afterlife. Chloe was at the worst she had ever been, and even her mother Joyce could not comfort her.

Her step-father David Madsen only made things worse; his constant bickering repeatedly riled Chloe almost past the edge of insanity. With Rachel, she was able to drown his voice out, but without her; without anyone, he was just another conflict.

Chloe's flashbacks were abruptly interrupted by the sound of the door next to her opening, with a doctor dressed in white emerging from the surgery room. He stared down at the trembling blue-haired girl with anguish in his eyes. Chloe stared at the man, fearing for the worst.

"Please…Tell me she's okay…" Chloe begged through sobs. The doctor only stared back; his face a solid display of heartache. After what seemed like hours to Chloe, he finally spoke.

"She's gone."

* * *

 **A/N: So this is my first fanfic and I wanted to write up something which revolved around Chloe suffering after the death of Max. If people enjoy this, I'd gladly continue it but for now, I'll leave it as it is.**


	2. We Were Younger

**Chapter 2: We Were Younger**

"Chloe, what do you wanna be when you grow up?" The 12-year old Chloe turned her head to face the younger Max with an impish grin; she had no trouble thinking of an answer.

"You know what I wanna be." The answer caught Max by surprise. She gave the other girl a confused expression; she had no recollection of Chloe ever revealing her future ambitions.

The girls sat on the swing set that Chloe's father had just recently built for them; a surprise gift for the two for Chloe's birthday. They had spent the whole day pushing each other to see who could reach the highest, which ended in Max being the winner due to Chloe's superior strength. Every push of the swing would cause them to let out a flurry of giggles in exhilaration; and neither of them wanted the day to end.

The sun was beginning to set and the girls now stared into the late-afternoon sky; letting the cool spring breeze gently push them. The energy and lively atmosphere had dissipated into a calmer, serene mood where the friends simply conversed about life's simpler things.

"I don't…I don't think I do." Max stuttered out a nervous reply.

"Wow, Max." Chloe had a mild tone of seriousness to her voice; to Max, the taller girl seemed to have been offended by her forgetfulness, but Chloe was struggling to hold back laughter. "I can't believe you forgot that important conversation we had."

Max felt a pang of guilt that replaced her prior confusion; despising herself inside for forgetting what seemed to be such an important moment to her friend. The nervous girl darted her eyes around, trying to dig into her brain to recall any memory of Chloe mentioning her dream career.

"I…uhh…I don't…" Max's voice carried an anxious tremble, and that was enough to break Chloe's hold on her laughter. The blonde unleashed a wild laugh that left Max in utter confusion until she realized that her friend had been joking.

"What…Chloe!" The smaller girl blushed in embarrassment, but her friend continued to cry out in a flood of hysterics. The ecstatic girl's howls died down into giggles as she wiped tears with her long sleeve.

"Oh man! You totally fell for it! That was hilarious!" Chloe opened her eyes to be greeted by her friend; cheeks flushed in red bearing a displeased expression on her face.

"Chl…Chloe!" Max playfully shoved her friend, but the push caught the other girl off guard and sent her backwards onto the dirt, landing on her back with a thud.

Max brought her hands to her shuddering mouth and let out a heavy gasp. "Oh my god! Chloe, are you okay!?" Max called for her friend who was groaning in pain. Chloe shot her a gaze with a playful fire in her eyes.

"That's it. That was the _last_ straw, Caulfield. You're getting tickled!" The lying girl jumped to her feet and chased after the now fleeing Max. The two raced around Chloe's backyard; splitting the skies in laughter and joy.

"Chloeee! Stooop!" Max pleaded to Chloe through uncontrollable giggles.

"Chloe the Tickle Machine is _hungry_!" The chasing girl teased.

Chloe eventually managed to pin the exhausted Max into a corner; the wooden fence barricading the girl from behind. The panicking girl frantically scanned her surroundings for an escape, but the taller girl's slender arms covered any potential escape routes. Chloe had her arms outstretched and her legs apart to cover as much area as possible to prevent her friend from attempting a devious escape. She began to gloat in her victory.

"Looks like you've nowhere to go, Maxine!" Chloe spoke in a devilish rasp; like an evil witch who had captured an innocent child. "You're mine!"

Max suddenly noticed a near-perfect gap between the mischievous girl's legs and immediately hatched a plan to freedom. She couldn't help but smirk at her own genius.

"Oh hey, Mr. Price." Max's sly voice fooled Chloe and the defensive girl darted her head around to the opposite direction of her captive.

"What?" Chloe swiftly turned her head back to the corner when she realized that she had been deceived. Max had disappeared from her original position and Chloe felt a peculiar touch on the inside of her legs, along with the faint sound of shifting grass. Her eyes shot downwards to find her prisoner scrambling to crawl between her legs.

"You brat!" Chloe shrieked as Max finally made it past her warden's defenses. The misled girl swung around and launched a grip down on Max's ankles before she could pick herself up and run.

Max began to flail her body to try and free herself, but Chloe's grasp was too much.

"Ahh! Chloe!" Max turned her head back only to see her friend lying on her stomach with a mischievous smile on her face. "Let gooo!"

"Never! You dare try and escape the wrath of Chloe?!" Chloe threw herself forward onto the grass next to Max and initiated her attack by thrusting her slender fingers into Max's abdomen; tickling the girl's stomach which caused her to squirm and shriek in laughter. Max tried to push off her assailant to no avail.

"Nooo! Stooop! Ahh!" The brunette tried to beg through tears of thrill. She eventually knew the only way to survive Chloe's barrage of tickles would be to launch an assault of her own. She regained enough control of her body to send her own hands into her attacker's stomach; replicating the same movements that were being used on her.

"Ahh! You can't do that! Nooo!" Chloe was startled by the surprise counter-attack and began reacting the same way Max did. She couldn't help but release her control over the frisk situation and Max took advantage. "Okay okay! I'll stop! I'll stooop!" Chloe begged through joyous tears, and Max took the cue to halt.

"Don't mess with Mad Max." The triumphant girl beamed with a victorious smile.

"Lesson learned." Chloe responded through pants of exhaustion.

"So…" Max started awkwardly. "What _do_ you wanna be when you grow up?" Chloe scoffed.

"Like we said before; we're both gonna go travel the world. You'll take _awesome_ photographs and I'll be your faithful bodyguard." The blonde shot her friend a hopeful grin and it was returned.

The two laid on their backs in tranquil silence; staring into the once-blue sky now being painted a gorgeous orange from the sunset, and the girls lost themselves in the beauty of nature.

"I love the sunset; don't you, Max?" Chloe's innocent question was left unanswered; and she shifted her body to once again face the other girl, but what she saw scarred her. Her heart skipped a beat and a sudden wave of fear crashed into her head as tears began forming in her widened eyes. "Max?..."

Next to her, a pale Max laid on the grass; blood drooling from her ajar mouth and her eyes a lifeless white. Chloe felt a warm liquid on her arm and looked down to find blood pouring from her friend's stomach; a familiar puncture in her upper abdomen. The shaking girl's heart raced and the world around her darkened.

The bleach-skinned Max let out a cold whisper; a sound that made Chloe shudder down to her bone. " _You let me die…_ "

* * *

" **NO!** " Chloe's body shot up and sweat poured from her forehead. She swiftly familiarized herself with her surroundings and realized that she was sat up in the bed in her bedroom. The panicked girl panted as her heart raced in her burning chest. Her breaths began to normalize and she stared down at the bed sheets; taking in everything she had just witnessed.

 _It was just a nightmare, Chloe. You're fine. Who the fuck am I kidding? You're a goddamn mess._

It had been a painful week since Max had been pronounced dead in hospital and every passing second felt like harsh punishment.

Releasing all the weight in her body, she let herself fall back onto the bed; her head landing on the pillow with a mild bounce. She felt tears welling up in her eyes and she shifted her body to face the crowded shelf next to her bed. Her eyes were drawn to the charcoal coloured journal that sat on the roof of the shelf.

Chloe had taken Max's journal as well as her other possessions including her messenger bag which she had left untouched. She refused to be reminded of her friend and ignored the items while she tried to forget Max.

She felt the messy book beckoning to her, and Chloe's temptations to read through the pages only grew with every second that she stared at it.

Her hand delicately reached over to the journal and she felt a relieving comfort the moment her trembling fingers made contact with the smooth surface of the cover. She pulled the object closer to her and gently grabbed it to bring it to her face.

 _Why am I doing this? It'll only make me miss you even more. Do I just like torturing myself?_

She felt her fingers tremor as they stroked the cover; her mind crowding with memories of Max. Chloe anxiously pulled the cover open and let out a sharp chuckle when the read the text of the first page.

 _ **Dear Reader, if you aren't Max Caulfield, GO AWAY. Learn to respect privacy, JEEZ.**_

 _Classic Max._

 _ **July 10, 2013**_

 _ **I GOT ACCEPTED INTO BLACKWELL ACADEMY**_

 _ **If words could dance, this would be a rave. Even though I've never been to one…**_

Chloe intensively scanned the page and only noticed that she had begun crying when a tear droplet landed on the bottom of the page; tainting the overjoyed text with anguish. She brought her palm to her eye and wiped the tears, and let out soft laughs as she read through Max's odd sense of humor.

 _ **August 18, 2013**_

 _ **So this is it. I'm leaving Seattle to go back to Arcadia Bay. Usually people go to the High School closest to home. I suppose I am too, it's just I haven't lived there for 5 years. Out of all the best photography programs in the world, I choose to go to the smallest, back in a town I was excited about leaving.**_

 _ **Maybe I wanted to come back all along, just to see if Chloe and I are still even friends. But I do wish Chloe could have moved with us to Seattle... That city was made for her. When we would play pirates in our rooms and in the woods, it seemed like Seattle was that fabled faraway island of treasure and adventure that we were always seeking. With coffee shops.**_

Chloe felt a wave of nostalgia hit her upon reading Max's clear descriptions of their childhood games. Vivid images of her and Max letting their wild imaginations run free brought a smile to Chloe's face; and more tears welled up in her reddened eyes.

Chloe read on and every so often let out short snickers at Max's successes and failures at her new life at Blackwell Academy. She couldn't help but notice that her best friend had not changed; shy, introvert, but adorable and geeky on the inside. It's what Chloe loved about her. Just thinking about her friend's lovable traits made her miss her even more; and Chloe felt a hint of regret of reading her journal in the first place.

 _I wonder what Max would do if she saw me reading her precious journal. She'd definitely try to beat my ass down._

It was at the moment Chloe reached Max's entry for October 7th when her enlightened mood turned to sorrow.

 _Her final entry…Max…_

 _ **October 7, 2013**_

 _ **This will be the weirdest journal entry I will ever make. So weird I don't know how or where to start. But it started with the most vivid dream of my life. I was lost in a storm by the lighthouse until I came to the edge of the cliff.**_

 _ **Then I saw a giant tornado headed for Arcadia Bay. It was so real that I could feel the rain stinging my face. And I was scared shitless. Then a boat hit the lighthouse and I swear I actually felt like I was going to die.**_

Chloe found Max's vivid descriptions initially odd, but read on.

 _ **I felt so shitty. I just wanted to get to the bathroom to be alone and wash my face after that nightmare. Or daymare. Once I got to the bathroom I saw this odd beautiful blue butterfly flutter in and right when I took a photo of it in the corner, Nathan Prescott came in freaking out, talking to himself. I hid in the corner and this punk girl came in and they started arguing about drugs and money. Then Nathan actually whipped out a gun and SHOT the girl.**_

Chloe's body shot up once again and her face was immediately drawn into the page.

 _Wait a minute, what the fuck?_

The punk was in utter disbelief as she read out the same event that resulted in Max's death, but with the end result being her own demise. She felt a pang of grief, but ignored the feeling due to her utter bewilderment.

She read over the paragraph over and over; like a record stuck on loop, but she still couldn't make sense of it.

 _How could she know of this? Maybe she's writing some fucked up fictional story and this is some sick coincidence. Could it? How? Everything except for the part where_ I die _is exactly the fucking same. This is hella freaking me out._

 _ **This is where it gets strange.**_

 _ **When Nathan fired the gun I came around the corner and reached out for some dumb reason, as if I could stop the bullet. But suddenly I could feel the world twisting around me and this pressure in my head, everything seemed to rewind and I found myself right back in class at my desk!**_

Chloe ran her fingers through her cobalt hair and then brought her index finger and thumb to her temple.

 _ **Then the girl came into the bathroom, and before Nathan could shoot her, I smashed open the ancient fire alarm and scared both of them away. Victory!**_

A million different theories began roaming through Chloe's mind. Had Max gone insane? Was she writing some absurd tale in her journal? Was Chloe still dreaming?

Every possibility had at least one major reason as to how it would not make sense.

She continued to read through the pages; soaking in every detail, every word, to hopefully make sense of this. She eventually reached the part where Max encountered Chloe.

Max had described her perfectly; the tattoos, the dyed hair, the piercings. She had details like her "battered truck", and her "cool boots".

 _She knows all this shit about me, about Rachel! How the fuck could she know this?_

Chloe discovered further proof that what her friend had written in her journal was completely true; a Polaroid of herself dancing on her bed.

 _That's…That's me. How? Fuck, what the hell is going on?_

Chloe could only read on, she needed answers desperately and the journal she held only produced a constantly increasing pile of impossible questions.

* * *

Chloe had spent the past three hours reading through every letter of the journal; trying to piece together a puzzle that had too many missing pieces.

She had assembled a large board that was plastered with photos, sticky notes, and paper clippings; all one failed attempt at trying to discover a final conclusion. Every page she read only produced more questions, and her head was consumed in frustration and turmoil.

She needed to find the truth; how Max knew all this information about her, the school, and Arcadia Bay. She had managed to read up to Max's final entry on Wednesday; obviously a day that hadn't even occurred yet for Chloe.

Every turn of the page continued to prove that Max had not got maniacal, or if she was writing some horrific drama; every detail she described was perfect, from the people to the environments of Arcadia Bay that she couldn't have seen before.

Chloe didn't want to believe any of it. She despised imagining Max suffering through that unbearable pain of the events that unfolded, and discovering Rachel's secrets regarding Frank only caused her to react the same way she did in the journal, this time without anyone to vent her anger out to. She refused to believe that Rachel had dated Frank behind her back; but everything Max had described in her journal up until this point was perfectly true, and Rachel's secret was likely no exception.

On top of this, Chloe was left having to make sense of Max's first photo jump; when she traveled back five years to save her father from his tragic fate. She herself couldn't imagine being a quadriplegic; the lack of the ability to move a muscle, and needing morphine on a regular basis.

She couldn't imagine pleading Max for a final request. Her own suicide.

 _How the fuck could I do that? Ask my_ best friend _to overdose me the morning after she came back? What the fuck is wrong with me?_

Chloe's head was in shambles; a ruin consisting of broken memories and disorganized information. She felt dizzy from trying to process the horrific truth; having to cope with everything in such a short time. It felt as if she was hit by a bullet, and just as she recovered, another two would hit.

No one was there to aid her; and she was left to accept the harsh fact that she was the only one that could piece the story together, and it ate away at her feeble mind.

Struggling to keep up with the story, she persevered and continued reading into Thursday's entries. She continued to study the lines of text that outlined the girls' investigation; their confrontation with Frank, the raid on Nathan's dorm room, and Max's search through David's garage.

Nothing was able to prepare Chloe for what she read next.

 _ **If there was evil ground zero, this place was it. Cupboards filled with named red binders that confirmed our worst nightmares... not that I even had any clue that our amateur detective work would lead us to this kind of professional hell. When I saw the binder marked "Victoria," my heart started pounding like a jackhammer. Then I had a real clue about what was coming...**_

 _Nathan you sick bastard…I knew you were fucked up in the head, but Jesus. Good riddance._

 _ **I don't even want to think about the images we saw of Kate Marsh posed unconscious with that motherfucker, Nathan Prescott. She did know the truth about what happened to her even if she couldn't remember all the awful details... And then Rachel Amber. Delicately composed photographs of her drugged and all over Nathan like some kind of sick goth couple. I couldn't bear to look at Chloe's face as she looked at the photos of her abused angel. I felt nauseated. All the hope I was feeding Chloe felt like vapor. And then we saw exactly where Nathan had taken his vicious layout with poor Rachel. In the junkyard.**_

Chloe's face grew red in sheer anger. The thought of Nathan abusing her angel in such a way brought her over the edge and she clenched her fist so hard that her nails dug into her skin. She had never felt so infuriated in her life, and the image of Nathan's sadistic acts burned into her mind like a CD, eating away at her sanity. However, her mood quickly reversed when she fiercely turned the page.

 _ **We finally found Rachel Amber. Dead and buried. I'm sorry, Rachel. I'm sorry, Chloe. I'm sorry, Kate. I'm sorry, William.**_

Chloe's grip on the journal loosened and the jet black book fell to the floor. Her hands rose up to her quivering lips and her heart shattered. She read the second sentence repeatedly, hoping that Max had made some sort of error in her writing.

 _ **Dead and buried.**_

 _I'm just hallucinating._

 _ **Dead and buried.**_

 _This can't be real._

 _ **Dead and buried.**_

 _Please no…_

 _ **DEAD**_

 _ **AND**_

 _ **BURIED**_

Three words. It was enough to shatter her into a million pieces.

* * *

 **A/N: Welp, that's second chapter for ya. Hope you're enjoying the story as much as I enjoy writing it. I absolutely adore Pricefield but I really wanted to write something that not only revolved around Chloe, but focused on her depressed side that we didn't get to see much in game.**

 **Also wanna give a huge thanks to Reddit user LEXX911 for creating a fully interactive Max's journal. It was such a useful tool for when I wrote the parts when Chloe read the journal. Check it out:**

 **r/lifeisstrange/comments/5tbkkd/ep5_spoilersi_created_an_interactive_maxs/**

 **Aaaanyways, thanks for reading and be sure to leave feedback!**


	3. The Mountains Say

**A/N: Trigger Warning: Mentions of suicide.**

* * *

 **Chapter 3: The Mountains Say**

Chloe panted in exhaustion; releasing her death grip on the shovel and letting it land on the moist dirt. She stared at the sky; when she arrived at the junkyard, it was early in the afternoon, the sun beamed down in a clear ocean blue sky. Now clouds had formed, dancing across an apricot screen.

The drained punk wiped the raining sweat from her forehead with the sleeve of her blazer, and her eyes scanned around the junkyard as she realized the mess she had made.

The muddy ground in front of her was littered with miniature craters; carelessly dug by a now dull shovel. Chloe had spent the past four hours digging holes across the junkyard; tainting what was previously her separate home of isolation with grieving sorrow.

 _Dead and buried._

The words still haunted her mind. Chloe was still in denial; her friend couldn't be dead, she was stronger than that. Chloe knew it. However, Max's journal had yet to be wrong, and the exasperated girl was forcing herself to believe that her deceased friend was incorrect.

Witnessing American Rust in complete disarray, Chloe dropped to the floor; her bottom landing on the damp grass. Her legs retracted and her arms wrapped around her weakened shins. Her head hung down and yet again, tears welled up in her fatigued eyes.

Chloe sat there for what seemed like an hour; contemplating everything she was going through. Her head still struggled to wrap around the fact that Max was gone forever; let alone the fact that she had the mysterious power to rewind time.

 _Maybe I'm just dreaming. Maybe I'll wake up and none of this shit would have happened, and Max will still be alive._

Chloe shut her eyes; hoping that when she opened them, she would be laying in her bed, back to a time when her best friend hadn't been shot.

The desperate girl gradually lifted her eyelids wishing to be greeted by the sight of her bedroom ceiling; but her eyes were instead met with the descending light of the setting sun.

"Fuck." The girl cursed under her breath and let out a brief sigh before lifting herself to her feet. She kneeled down and grasped the rough wooden handle of the shovel and began to search her surroundings for any other locations in which she hadn't dug.

Chloe had begun to think that Rachel wasn't dead and buried at all; and her relentless search had certainly proved it. However, she wanted to be completely sure. Her mind burned at the thought of her precious angel being entombed somewhere in the yard; maybe even right below her feet.

Chloe sauntered across the field of holes and hopelessness; until she felt a light mound under her boot. Her eyes descended to the ground and she noticed two small lumps in the dirt. She immediately imagined the worst. Her entire body trembled at the thought that she could be standing on top of her deceased friend, but she quickly erased the depressing speculation. Unwillingly, she brought the shovel's now dull metal edge to the mildly emerging earth. She stomped her foot down on the rusty head and sunk her foot down. Her heart stung with every dig; and her vision blurred from the tears that formed in her eyes like cruel rainclouds.

One final clearing of the dirt revealed a hint of darkened plaid blue. A mixture of fury and sorrow consumed Chloe's already severely damaged psyche; and she threw back the shovel in despair. She fell to her knees and thrust her burning hands into the rugged dirt. She unleashed screams of bitter rage as she clawed away handfuls of soil; her fingers being painted an agonizing mix of raw umber and crimson.

The stench of rot hit her nose like a truck. Chloe collapsed backwards onto her rear and her damaged hands darted up to her tear-soaked lips.

 _Please no…_

Everything rushed through her head in a flash. The waves of heartbreaking emotion and sorrow overwhelmed the now sobbing girl.

"Rachel…" Chloe let out a desperate call for her friend; the word leaving her mouth as if it were an instinct. Every painful moment that she had recently suffered through and attempted to bury had come crawling back; returning once again to emotionally destroy the dismal girl.

So much death. So much pain. Her father, Max, and now Rachel. Everyone she had ever cared for was gone; now living as ghosts inside Chloe's shattered mind, erasing any trace of her sanity that she had managed to retain. It felt as if the weight of a thousand cities had come bearing down on Chloe; no one around her to help her lift it off, it was only her. She was alone.

Chloe sat next to Rachel's grave; trying to sob her pain away. Her head was buried in her legs and she shrieked in grief for not only the friend that was buried dead beside her, but for her father and Max.

 _Everyone I love, they're all dead! What kind of world does this? Who does this…_

So many thoughts raced through Chloe's mind that it was impossible for her to focus on a single piece of her overflowing head. Every breath she took now burned her chest; her eyes stung from the flood of tears.

Up until this very moment, Chloe had fought desperately to try and bear with the pain and suffering from the intense losses that she had suffered. She hung by a single string that was on the verge of being cut; but the girl help her grasp. With Rachel's fate now aware to her; that very string had been sliced, and now Chloe was in a mental freefall with the ground rapidly approaching.

* * *

Chloe stared at it. She almost felt it staring back. The polished black metal ornamented with the chestnut coloured wood was almost hypnotising. She fiddled with the item in her bandaged hands; a result of her frantic digging being small strips of adhesive wrapping around her fingers and palms like a glove. Though the sight of her damaged skin looked rather unpleasant, the mental pain she felt was so much worse that the cuts felt non-existent.

Chloe gently brought her thumb to the petite cylinder release and lightly shifted it forward to let the caged cylinder within free. Six narrow holes were symmetrically laid in the round connected piece of metal; and Chloe stroked her thumb across the sleek side of the surface and smoothly rotated the hinged component.

She dove into her pocket and reluctantly pulled out a tiny piece of brass; appearing bland and cold under the lack of light in Chloe's room. She examined the item carefully before delicately inserting it into one of the holes in the cylinder.

Her thumb pushed the cylinder back into its original place; the faint click of the lock sounding almost satisfying to Chloe's ears. Her heart began to race and her hands began to tremble.

 _Just do it Chloe. It's over. You just gotta let go._

Her furiously shaking hand lifted itself to bring the barrel of the stout revolver to her temple as sweat began to fiercely pour onto her pale face. Her index finger tightened around the trigger; gradually adding more pressure every passing second. She shut her eyelids and held her breath; hearing nothing but her rapid heartbeat within her.

 _Don't chicken out, Price. Just fucking do it!_

Seconds passed and silence still filled the room.

Chloe sharply exhaled the held breath and dropped her hand back to her lap.

 _Fuck. I can't._

She released the cylinder once more and stared at the bullet that housed itself within the weapon.

 _I can't take it anymore. Everyone around me dies; it's as if I'm being punished by the universe! God, I wish Max were here. She'd know what to do. She'd be here to comfort me and talk me out of doing this shit, and I wouldn't. Because she's Max. She'd want me to move on, right? Not get so involved in her shit and find someone new? How could I ever do that though? She and Rachel were all I had and now they're both fucking gone, and it's all my fault. I'd be doing the world a big favour. Fuck it._

Chloe spun the cylinder and the round encasing rotated rapidly; the single bullet moving with it. Eyes shut; she pushed the cylinder back inside the gun and once again heard the click.

 _I can't decide, so I'll let fate decide for me. If the universe really wants me to fuck off, so be it. Fucking take me._

Russian Roulette. Chloe had once joked about playing it with Rachel, and had actually played it once with Max many years ago; except with a much less lethal foam dart gun. The image of the two giggling as they toyed with the plastic weapon made her feel a pang of nostalgia. The face on her father when he discovered that his daughter and her best friend were playing such a morbid game. The pouting face on Max when their toy was confiscated from them. Regardless of the ending, the incident was still another special moment in time in Chloe and Max's vast archive of memories.

Her hand rattled as she held the weapon to her temple once again. Pressure began easing onto the trigger as she profusely sweat. Chloe's life began flashing before her eyes; except every moment she witnessed were memories of her and Max. Playfully giggling and dancing away their innocence; a time when nothing else mattered but the two of them.

Playing Pirates at the lighthouse or staying up late at night in Chloe's bedroom, watching Blade Runner under bed sheets and struggling to hide fits of laughter in order to not wake Chloe's parents.

She remembered the cheerful moments in her life; everything before her father passed away and her life took a turn for the worst.

She wanted to erase the pain. Eliminate the anguish and sorrow that she had to cope with. She had given up. The thoughts of Max's laughter and smile began to wash away some of the misery in her mind. Maybe there was still hope. Maybe making sense of Max's powers could help her move on; get a second chance. Maybe suicide wasn't the answer.

But it was too late.

Before she could change her mind,

Chloe pulled the trigger.

* * *

 **A/N: Yes, I know you despise the cliffhangers. No, I will not stop doing them ;).**

 **This chapter was very difficult to write. I had the Russian Roulette scene planned in my head during the concept stages of this fic; before I wrote anything down. I wanted to make sure it was the best it could possibly be; maybe even be the best scene in the story so far. I hope I did it justice so let me know.**

 **I still have no idea how long I'm gonna make the story, but at the moment I plan to keep it between 10-20 chapters. I'm just not sure if I could go beyond that. However, this is only the third chapter so we'll have to see :).**

 **Also, thank you everyone so much for the support for my previous chapters. I had no idea this story would get this kind of attention; let alone any attention at all. It means a lot to me and you guys are the reason I'm still writing. So thank you from the bottom of my heart.**

 **Anyways, that's enough mush. See ya guys in chapter 4!**


	4. Wash the Dirt Off

**Chapter 4: Wash the Dirt Off**

 _Click._

Chloe had never been more relieved in her life. The sound of the empty chamber was music to her ears; and although she was ecstatic that she was still alive, a wave of remorse was unleashed given that she had put herself in this dire situation.

The second she heard the sound; all her stored breath exhaled, her hand dropped like a paper weight, and her heart began to beat normally. She panted from the mass of adrenaline that ran through her; she had never been more scared in her life.

 _What the fuck is wrong with you, Chloe?! You almost_ killed yourself _, you goddamn lunatic. I'm losing it._

Nothing made sense to her anymore; it was as if her body was completely out of her own control now. An outbreak of tears emerged from her exhausted eyes and she unwillingly wailed out sobs of self-loathe.

Her eyes were drawn to the firearm that she had used to nearly commit suicide; and she hurled the gun at the wall in front of her. The metal hit with a loud thud and resulted in a noticeable crack in the aged wall, and the revolver landed on the hardwood floor with a clunk.

Chloe buried her head into her palms as she remained seated at the edge of her bed; sobbing away tears of resentment. The ordeal had been sort of a wake-up call for the girl; a slap to the face that demanded her to regain control of her life and finish what she had already started; uncover Max's surreal story.

Chloe slightly jumped and stopped crying when she heard three subtle knocks on her bedroom door.

"Chloe? Dear?" It was her mother's muffled voice from beyond. No one was home when Chloe had returned from her somber trip to American Rust, but when she noticed that the clock now read 7:19 PM, she realized that her mother's shift at the Two Whales Diner had ended for the day. "Chloe, are you okay in there?" Her mother's voice was soothing; she could discern the worry when she spoke.

Chloe sniffled away snot and wiped the tears that trailed down her cheeks.

"Yeah…I'm fine." Chloe responded with quivering lips; her recent breakdown evident in her voice.

"Honey, you sound far from okay. Can I please come in?" Joyce almost begged her daughter for the request.

Chloe wanted to be alone to sob away her troubles, but her mother was the only person she wanted to see in the world at that moment. Chloe rose up from her seat and calmly opened the door; her mother standing before her now with a concerned look on her face, while she still wore her diner uniform.

"Hey Chloe." Her mother greeted her softly.

"Hey mom…" Chloe's response was almost like a squeak. She turned back around and returned to the bed, situating herself on the side this time. She leaned over and snatched a rolled up joint from her red painted 'Oregon' ash tray and used her free hand to retrieve a silver Zippo lighter that sat neatly next to the bowl. She proceeded to light the joint as her mother observed her; not a word or expression emitting from her.

Joyce normally despised Chloe's marijuana habits; but she knew that nagging was the last thing her daughter needed, so she ignored the narcotics.

Chloe took a long, soothing drag from her joint; inhaling in the calming sensation to fill her head. It had been more than a week since she had smoked; her grief had caused her to completely forget her old habits. Right now, however, she needed the drug more than ever; something to try and erase her depression away.

"Listen, I know you wanted to be alone-and I respect that-but…" Joyce spoke calmly, careful to select the right words in order to not upset Chloe. "I'm worried about you, Chloe. I'm your mother and I can't sit by and watch you suffer on your own." Chloe exhaled a fume of marijuana smoke before replying.

"I know. It's just…It's hard to believe, you know? Max was like a sister to me almost." Although Chloe had managed to pause her mental breakdown, it didn't mean that she was no longer distressed. She held back the urge to fall onto her knees and sob into her mother's legs.

"I understand. I cared for Max _so_ much too. I miss her a lot, and I know you do too." Joyce sat down next to her daughter and wrapped her arm around her. Chloe sunk her head into her mother's shoulder. The stench of cannabis flowed into Joyce's nose; but she ignored the bitter odor and focused on comforting her daughter. The two sat in silence for a short moment before Joyce spoke again.

"We're…having a service for Max next week."

"Oh." It was all Chloe could say.

"I never thought I'd be doing this. Burying someone so beautiful and sweet like Max. No one deserves-" Joyce's words cut off when she noticed the abundance of band-aids plastered across Chloe's hands. "Chloe! What…what happened to your hands?!" Joyce exclaimed as she snatched Chloe's wrist and examined her injured hand.

"It's…it's nothing. I'm fine." Chloe couldn't tell her mother what she had found in the junkyard; not yet.

"This is _far_ from fine. Tell me the truth, Chloe."

"I told you, it's not a big deal."

"Chloe, I do not want to have to argue with you about this, just please tell me."

"There's nothing to tell; I'm okay, mom!" Chloe's voice was raised; her mind was burning with the image of the gruesome scene. Her voice was trembling; on the verge of breaking.

"Chloe, I am not leaving until you-"

"I FOUND RACHEL!" Chloe screamed out; the secret she planned to hide breaching through the barriers in her head.

"Wha…what?" Joyce was bewildered.

"I found…I found Rachel, mom." Chloe's voice was calmer now; but there was a shuddering fear that was obvious.

"Where? Where is she?"

"She's…" Chloe choked on her words; struggling to explain what she found to her mother. "She's dead."

Joyce was speechless; and her hands rose up to her mouth; shaking in utter surprise.

"Oh my goodness…Chloe…" Joyce wrapped her arms around her daughter; Chloe immediately accepting her mother's embrace. She wept into her shoulder; her muffled cries sounding like an orchestra of suffering to Joyce's ears.

Joyce didn't know what to say; she feared of speaking the wrong words that may further agitate her already fragile daughter. Instead, she let her shed tears into her uniform; determined to stay by her as long as she ever needed.

* * *

"In the junkyard?...How?...Who could do such a thing?" Joyce struggled to wrap her head around the cruel facts that her daughter revealed to her; she was obviously having trouble trying to understand the horrors.

Chloe fought back tears as she explained every detail; a burdening weight easing off of her shoulders with every word. She was relieved that she could finally vent her thoughts to someone; and she was grateful that it was her mother of all people.

"It was Nathan Prescott." Chloe started; her fist clenched and flushed red as she mentioned his name. "That son of a bitch did sick things to Rachel; only to kill and bury her!"

The two sat in awkward silence for a brief moment; Joyce still attempting to understand what she had been informed of.

She never did enjoy Rachel's presence; believing that she was a bad influence on Chloe, but she still thanked her deep inside for rescuing her plunging daughter from her state of severe depression.

She couldn't begin to imagine the pain her daughter must have been feeling; the agony of losing two of her best friends in such a short time. She sifted through her mind to search for the right words to say to her daughter to possibly comfort her in this dark moment, but nothing came out.

"Chloe…I don't know what to say…" Joyce spoke her thoughts.

"Don't say anything. I should have seen it coming. When a girl is missing for six months, what else would have happened? I'm just glad that punk-ass Nathan Prescott offed himself; rich prick deserved it." Chloe vented her frustration; careful not to unleash her rage on the only person that still cared for her deeply.

"Chloe, don't say that."

"Why shouldn't I? Mom, that bastard _drugged and kidnapped_ young girls to take sick pictures of them. Who the fuck does that sort of thing?"

"I...I don't know, but being glad about his death won't make you a better person. He was truly unstable and he didn't get any help from his parents."

"Boo hoo, I don't give a fuck. Rachel's dead and so is Max." Joyce could only stare as her daughter took another long drag from her joint; releasing the fumes in an exhausted sigh.

"David…He saw it happen, Chloe."

"Saw what?"

"Nathan kill himself. It's been eating at him for the whole week."

"Why should I care?"

"Because he's your step-father, Chloe. He cares about you, and you should do the same to him."

"Bullshit! All he cares about is having another _soldier_ to boss around. We're just his fucking platoon or some shit."

"I know he may not seem that way, but David is really kind. You need to talk to him."

"And why the hell would I _ever_ do that? Is he the one who lost two of his best friends in less than two weeks?"

"That man has been through a lot more than you think he has."

"Yeah? Name one thing."

"That is something for him to tell you."

"Well, I'm not talking to him, so I guess I'll never find out." Joyce couldn't think of a reply; she was drained from being caught between her distressed family members. Everything around her felt so fragile; capable of shattering from a gentle touch. She felt herself on the verge of going insane from the stress. "Maybe you should just go." Chloe's words gave her a sharp sting. "Let me be alone."

Joyce was reluctant to abide; but she felt too exhausted from the emotional weight on her head that she could no longer tolerate Chloe's rage. She hesitantly rose from her seat and shuffled her way to the door; giving Chloe one final glance before leaving.

* * *

 _ **I watched Chloe die again.**_

 _What?_

 _ **Killed by my favorite teacher. Why?**_

 _Again, what?_

Chloe studied every word to ensure that she didn't miss a detail. It seemed so unreal. Mark Jefferson? It felt like a plot twist in a film; a really heartless film.

Chloe almost felt guilty for being so wrong about Nathan; however, that thought was buried in her mind, he had still killed Rachel regardless.

She still struggled to believe that it had been Mark Jefferson who was behind the Dark Room; hiding underneath a mask of deceit and manipulation. It was aggravating.

Chloe had never been able to familiarize herself with Mark Jefferson; her lack of photography classes being the obvious reason. However, she always thought of him as a kind-hearted, gentle teacher and she held mild respect for him and his impressive artwork. She utterly despised herself now for having such feelings; and bore an even greater regret at the fact she found him relatively attractive.

 _I_ knew _hot guys in goatees weren't trustworthy. Bastard._

Chloe's heart sunk when she read about Max's experiences in the Dark Room. Her descriptions were brief; and her tone of writing was evident of trauma. She refused to even think about what Jefferson did to her beloved Max in his sadistic dungeon; she swore vengeance to the heartless man who had committed such horrific acts against her late best friend.

 _Jefferson. I will find you. I will make you pay for what you did to Max. To Rachel. To everyone._

* * *

Chloe stomped furiously towards the art room; her boots quaking the ground from her hunger for vengeance. The students of Blackwell Academy stared at the outraged punk as she marched down the halls; they immediately recognized her as the other girl in the bathroom.

Rumours had sparked since the tragic day regarding Chloe, but the girl had other matters to concern herself about.

Room 102; the photography lab. Chloe approached the wide open door of the art room and halted at the frame. Her eyes immediately focused on the figure of Mark Jefferson; wearing a sophisticated ash-coloured suit jacket with black pants to match, conversing with none other than Victoria Chase.

 _There you are, you sick sonofabitch._

"Mark Jefferson?" Chloe called for the teacher with wrath in her cold voice. Jefferson's chat with the wealthy girl was swiftly interrupted and the two turned to face the punk.

"Uhh, hello. Are you…looking for me?" Jefferson was rather confused, but maintained his professional status; something that Chloe refused to be deceived by.

"We need to talk. _Now_." Chloe demanded and it struck worry into the photographer.

"What the hell are you doing here, Price?" Victoria shot at Chloe; she obviously wasn't pleased to see the girl return to her territory.

"Back off, Chase," Chloe threatened the annoyed girl; she was the least of her worries. "If you don't want me to break your perfect little face, you'll get the fuck out."

"Uh, excuse me?" Victoria was utterly bewildered but insulted by Chloe's belligerence. "Mr. Jefferson, are you gonna let her talk to me like that?" She immediately returned her gaze to her teacher; searching for rescue.

"Hold on, Victoria. Excuse me, but I don't appreciate your rude tone-" Jefferson was quickly interrupted by the still irritated Chloe.

"I don't give a shit. Get out here, now." Chloe felt a surge of power flooding through her; it felt comforting.

"If you asked nicely, I would gladly have spoken to you; but I'm afraid I'm going to have to refuse your invitation-"

"You like taking pics of drugged girls?" Chloe's words immediately made Jefferson's expression turn the opposite direction. His face altered from a look of glower to dismay; touched with a hint of fear.

"I uhh…I have no idea what you mean." Jefferson struggled to maintain his innocence.

"If you don't know what I mean, maybe we should talk so I can explain." Jefferson gulped as he adjusted his collar.

"Yes uhh…Maybe we will. Excuse me Victoria." Victoria's jaw dropped in disbelief; she wasn't used to being losing attention.

Jefferson hustled to the door, and Chloe gestured him to follow. The two exited through the front of the school; Chloe driving the door open.

The two entered a secluded area of the Blackwell parking lot; and the moment Jefferson knew they were alone, he sprung into attack.

"I don't think I exactly caught what you said, do you mind repeating?" Jefferson's tone was brimming with animosity; still perplexed as to how Chloe managed to discover his secret.

Rather than wasting her breath; Chloe dove into the back pocket of her tattered jeans and revealed a photo; a black-and-white image of Kate Marsh laying on the floor bearing a cold, lifeless expression on her face. Her arms were bound behind her back as the girl's innocence was reaped from her body.

Chloe had discovered the image on the inner back cover of Max's journal; within a taped envelope labeled "EVIDENCE". She was appalled when she laid her eyes on the various photographs of Kate and Rachel; all bound and drugged by Mark Jefferson and Nathan. She knew this was the perfect weapon to strike fear into the sociopathic man and control the confrontation that she prepared for. Obviously, it had worked.

Her original intention was to inform the police immediately, but she wanted to see the look on Jefferson's face when Chloe accosted him.

Jefferson's face exploded with disbelief as his eyes widened at the sight of one of his personal works. He initially doubted that Chloe knew his secret; he had taken too many precautions to hide it. However, this single piece of evidence was enough to disprove him.

"You…bitch! Where did you get that?!" Jefferson's calm, charismatic personality shifted to his truer, psychotic side.

"That is information that you'll hand to the police."

"Do you know who you're messing with? I have ties with the Prescotts, they will hunt and eat you alive!"

"Let them try. Their precious son is dead so I doubt they'll give a shit about you or this town anymore." Jefferson struggled to conceive words but all that left his mouth was a growl of ferocity.

"How much?" He grew impatient; he knew the only hope of getting Chloe to stay silent would be to bribe her.

"What?"

"How much to get you to shut the fuck up?!" Chloe sharply scoffed at his offer. She couldn't believe his boldness.

"That's fucking hilarious. You're gonna try to _bribe_ me to stay quiet?"

"What else do you want then?"

"Nothing more than to see you rot in prison for what you did."

"You stubborn cunt. I have no idea how you managed to find this, but believe me; I am going to gut you and mail your corpse to your parents! You've made your last mistake!"

"How cute. Here, lemme make another offer;" Chloe drew her phone and pressed the 'call' button that flashed on her screen. She deposited the device back into her left pocket, and just as the dial emitted from the muffled phone, numerous armed police officers emerged from the dense bushes and trees surrounding the exterior of the parking lot. The thundering demands to surrender from the law enforcers echoed across the afternoon sky. "Go to hell." Chloe spat the final words; one final punch to the shattering man.

Jefferson darted his eyes around; searching for an escape, but every possible exit was covered by men in navy blue. Finally accepting his fate; he dropped to his knees and placed his hands behind his head in the universal gesture for surrender, but not before shooting one final look of acrimony at Chloe.

The smirking bluenette's eyes met David's; the two were now locked in a gaze of comfort. The proud soldier subtly nodded his head, and Chloe returned the gesture.

The drained girl released a sigh of relief; she had finally granted Max, Kate, and every other one of Jefferson's victims vengeance, and she felt rather heroic. She could only watch in satisfaction as Jefferson was hauled away by two police officers to face justice in the eye.

For the first time in what seemed like eternity, Chloe felt happy.

For the first time in what seemed like eternity,

She felt alive.

* * *

 **A/N: Finally the tyrant falls! Been waiting to write up Jefferson's downfall, I couldn't help but deviously smirk as I wrote him shrivel up into this weak shell of a man. It felt pretty awesome.**

 **Anyways, hope you enjoyed the chapter. I have some interesting things planned for the chapters to come and I hope you'll join me for them.**

 **Also, don't worry; I plan on getting Chloe to regain herself starting next chapter or the one after that. Now that Jefferson's arrested, I think it's time she started feeling something that wasn't depression.**

 **Enough rambling, thanks for reading!**


	5. The Sense of Me

**Chapter 5: The Sense of Me**

"Chloe." David's voice was soft; something Chloe was unfamiliar with when she compared it to his usual stern, thundering voice of order.

"Hi, David." Chloe was nervous. She had paced herself in her bedroom to find the right words to say to her step-father, but she struggled to conceive them. "Can we talk?"

"Of course, come in." David lowered the novel in his hands to the bedside table and stood up from the bed. Despite being in his own home, David was still dressed in a khaki dress shirt and suit pants paired with belt.

Ever since the arrest of Mark Jefferson, David had grown to become more father-like to his step-daughter. He had abandoned his status as the sergeant of the household and instead settled for the beaming father-figure that he had always hoped to be.

"I just wanted to umm…" The anxiety was evident in the punk's voice; she could have never predicted that she would be apologizing to the man that had made her life more miserable than it had already been. "Thank you." The words exited like a fresh breath of air; something that Chloe had held in for quite some time. It was almost refreshing to finally release.

David amiably smiled. The appreciation took him by surprise but he was content with the knowledge that he had managed to gain respect from his step-daughter; even if it was miniscule.

"Well, I'm just glad that bastard is in cuffs. I should also thank you for bringing him to my attention." David's tone was thoughtful. It felt rather peculiar to not be ordering Chloe like he normally did.

"Not just that…I also wanna thank you for…doing your best."

"I'm not sure I follow."

"You're doing everything you can to protect me and my mom. Sure, you have some flaws, but you have the right state of mind." David was touched by Chloe's words. It shed a single tear of pride in his eye.

"Chloe…It means a lot that you'd say that…but I don't deserve it."

"Yes you do, David. You've been through a lot and that carries onto how you treat your family but no one can blame you. You're a fighter."

"I'm not a fighter, Chloe. I was, not anymore. I just wanted to protect you and Joyce, but all I did was hurt you both."

"No, you didn't. You're just learning. You're new at this family thing and that's fine."

"Chloe, I'm not new."

"What do you mean?"

"I…I had a family before."

"You…you did?"

"A wife. I loved her _so_ much. Like all married couples do, we tried to have a child. We did, but…" Tears began welling up in the soldier's eyes and his words began to slur.

"David, you can talk to me."

"During the birth…the baby died and it took my wife too." The tale was emotionally arduous to tell. It had been years since David spoke of the tragic day, and he had kept it bottled inside for a long time.

"I…I'm so sorry." Chloe was washed over with guilt. All this time she saw David as a heartless veteran, desperate for others to take charge of. She never anticipated him to have experienced something this horrific.

"You have no reason to be." David's speech returned to normal as he wiped away the tears with his sleeve. "Anything out there can take away your loved ones in an instant. It's why I strive to protect you two. I'd never be able to live with myself if any of you were to get hurt."

"I know. You're doing awesome."

"I don't feel like it. I couldn't protect Nathan Prescott. All that time I spent on surveillance when I could have been trying to at least _talk_ to the students; make sure they were okay."

"You didn't know. There was no way you could have known."

"Chloe, I'll never be able to forget what happened that day. I left the battlefield so I could get away from all the death and chaos, and instead it followed me." The images were burned in David's retinas; A panicking Nathan past the brink of insanity.

* * *

"Step the fuck back!" Nathan's voice trembled from fear; his hands shook fiercely as he aimed the gun at the gathered audience just outside the bathroom door. "Step the fuck back now!"

"Nathan, let's calm ourselves here." David stepped forward; his hands out in front of him as he gingerly approached the shaking boy. "Just put the gun down." He maintained composure in his voice.

"It's all my fault! I killed her!"

"It's okay Nathan, I'm sure it wasn't your fault. Just tell me what happened."

"She was there. She was waiting. She scared me, I didn't know what to do! It was an accident!"

"Okay Nathan. It was just an accident, you didn't mean it."

"HELP!" A muffled plea came from behind the door. David immediately recognized the voice.

 _Chloe._

"HELP PLEASE!"

"Nathan, listen to me. We need to get inside. We need to help whoever is in there, so we can help you too. Just drop the gun and we can help you."

"No one can help me…NO ONE!" Nathan's psychotic voice startled the already petrified students that observed in horror.

"Yes we can. Just put the gun down and take my hand." There was an alarming silence. Nathan's eyes bolted around his surroundings; tears and sweat soaking his pale face. "Nathan…" David took a step forward. The subtle movement made Nathan jump, and he struggled to steady his grip on the weapon.

There was another silence before Nathan sharply raised the gun to his temple and pulled the trigger without hesitation; sparking loud shrieks of trauma from the viewing crowd.

David's heart raced and everything around him moved in slow motion. He could only hear the sound of his heavy breaths and his beating heart resonating in his head. He couldn't believe what he had just witnessed.

 _Chloe…_

His mind focused on his step-daughter. He lunged forward and crashed through the door to his daughter's aid until he bore witness to yet another gruesome sight; Max's corpse.

"Oh my god…" It was all he could mutter.

* * *

"David?" David's snapped back to reality to the sight of Chloe waving her hand in front of his eyes. He rapidly blinked the flashback away and concentrated on his concerned step-daughter. "Hellooo?"

"Oh um, sorry." David subtly shook his head; fighting the nightmare away.

"What the hell happened? You looked like you saw a ghost or something."

"I may just have." David replied; the image of Nathan's lifeless body still fresh in his mind.

"Uhh, anyways. Do you know when Jefferson's trial is?"

"They say it'll be next week. Possibly sooner."

"Good. Sooner that bastard heads to rot away behind bars, the better."

"You can certainly say that again." An awkward silence split their conversation; neither of them knowing what to say. It had been an eventful week, but they were both relieved that it had finally ended. "Chloe?" The bluenette returned her attention to David. "I want to thank you…for finding Jefferson's bunker. I mean, I have no idea how you found it, but I'm proud of you." Chloe gave David a thoughtful smile, which instinctively caused him to send one back.

Chloe was glad to be able to speak to David without either of them displaying hostility to one another. It was an odd change of routines, but one that Chloe was happy to welcome.

There was a shared silence between the two as they both gazed out the window to the sight of a gorgeous setting sun; painting the bedroom in a refreshing tangerine.

Chloe rose up from her perch on the bed and turned to David who still comfortably sat on the thick bed sheets.

"I think I'll go." Chloe announced. "I don't wanna bug you for too long."

"Oh, you're not bugging me at all."

"Nah, I hella am. Besides, you gotta get to work tomorrow, you'll need the sleep." Chloe approached the door and threw one final glance at her relaxed step-father; sending him one last smile.

* * *

Chloe took a long drag from her cigarette; captivated by the sheer beauty of the descending sun. It reminded her of her youth alongside Max; the two sharing silence and observing the graceful sight.

Chloe was slouched on the single bench perched on the cliff top; her cigarette resting between her index and middle fingers.

For the first time in what felt like decades, Chloe was at peace; almost accepting of Max's unfortunate death. She still had trouble finding answers as to how she ended up in the bathroom once again; what caused her to sacrifice herself the way she had. She knew there had to be a reasonable explanation as to why her friend would waste away her life for hers.

Noticing the dimming light of the sky, Chloe rose to her feet to return to her tattered truck. She traversed down the hill to be greeted by the mysterious presence of beautiful doe; staring into the young girl's eyes enigmatically.

The doe gracefully spun around and descended down a narrow path surrounded by dense trees, and Chloe felt the animal beckoning to her. Her feet began to move almost out of her own self-control and she tailed the creature down the winding trail.

The road was unusually familiar to Chloe; a nagging sense in the back of her mind that she had explored this path before.

The doe ducked its way through thick foliage; disappearing behind the bushes. Chloe swiftly followed and was lead into an open area hosting a single tree near the center. The animal was nowhere to be seen as if it had suddenly vanished from the face of the earth.

Chloe's eyes immediately elevated to the dilapidated treehouse that neatly rested between the branches of the tree. Carved into the bark were the words "M&C's Pirate Cove"; refreshing Chloe with nostalgia and memories.

Chloe began ascending the rope ladder dangling from the floor of the treehouse; her hands frantically charging her up the rungs.

Her head peeked over and Chloe halted her climb in amazement. Littered across the floor and walls of the wooden box were pieces of her past; comics, drawings, posters, and other knick-knacks abandoned from the days of Chloe and Max's imaginary pillaging.

She crawled into the compact doorway and shuffled around; her eyes struggling to focus on a single item. Her eyes beamed with excitement, and she felt herself gradually returning to her younger self; the version of her that lacked the tattoos, dyed hair, and rebellious attitude.

It was almost like an archive of Max and Chloe; a collage of what their lives used to be.

Chloe found her own little world within the shoddy walls of her cove, and she spent the sinking hours rummaging through every piece of memorabilia. Her eyes were fixed onto the colourful pages of one of her old superhero comics before they grew heavy, and she dozed off.

* * *

Chloe's eyes were almost blinded by the beaming light of the rising sun that overwhelmed her retinas as she slowly lifted her eyelids awake. Her hand shot up to shield her eyes from the attacking sunlight and she blinked away the grogginess of sleep.

She squinted and examined her surroundings; the events of last night assembling in her mind once again like a puzzle. The treehouse lay in shambles; the floor an even greater mess than it was originally.

Chloe stretched her back; the soreness from the sleeping against hardened wood was aching.

She shuffled out of the treehouse and descended the rope ladder. Chloe patted the dust away from her ripped jeans and exited the serene opening that was graced by a symphony of bird calls.

Her truck remained exactly where she had parked it, and Chloe entered the aged vehicle and sighed before turning the ignition. The truck sputtered to life and fled the parking lot.

* * *

The cold brass felt smooth on her skin as the metallic surface ran across her fingers. The girl lay on her bed, playing with her bullet necklace as her mind raced with thoughts. Thoughts of Max, Rachel, and even David cluttered her damaged head.

Through the overwhelming thoughts of her loved ones, a single image of Jefferson snuck its way into her view. His deceiving smile caused her to instinctively clench her fist in anger.

 _I could have killed him. I could have just shot him. Why didn't I? Maybe this whole Max and Rachel thing has changed me completely in ways I never thought I could change. It's too late now I guess. I'll just have to be content with the fact that he's in jail. Enjoy the showers, asshole._

Chloe continued to fondle the charm around her neck; the faint jingling of the contacting metal echoing through her eardrums.

She examined the most trivial details of each bullet; resting them on her palm. She clutched the trinket into her fist and held it until a sudden rush surged through her head.

She felt her surroundings twist into spiral of disorientation. Her vision began to blur and a subtle pressure pushed into her whole body. Her head remained laid on the pillow and she still stared blankly at the ceiling. Gradually, the world around her faded to black and white; the colour being drained from the scene like straining a wet towel.

She released the grip on the trinket yet everything around her remained just as surreal.

Chloe jumped at the echoing sound of three knocks on her bedroom door.

"Chloe? Dear?" It was her mother's muffled voice coming from the other side.

 _Mom? She's at work, how could she be home?_

Chloe sat up and let out a sharp gasp when she beheld an impossible sight. She stared at the back of another Chloe; the dyed blue hair and beanie almost too recognizable.

"Chloe, are you okay in there?" The words felt too familiar, Chloe had heard these words before.

"Yeah…I'm fine."

"Honey, you sound far from okay. Can I please come in?"

The other Chloe rose up from her seat on the end of the bed and ambled to her mother's voice. The door was opened and beyond was the figure of Joyce wearing her typical diner uniform.

"Hey Chloe."

"Hi mom…"

That greeting. It felt almost like a flashback to Chloe.

 _This can't be happening. This is just a dream._

Chloe recognized everything that occurred; it was like watching a movie for the second time; knowing exactly what would happen before it did.

The mirrored Chloe turned to face the direction of the baffled version of herself; seeing past her as if she didn't exist.

The observing girl reached over to her separate self as the clone leaned over for her joint and lighter the same way she did a few days ago. Her hand simply phased through her body and it prompted no reaction from the other girl.

Chloe witnessed the whole scene play out exactly the same, with every moment and event reoccurring just as her own memory recalled. She was utterly bewildered; everything felt so real; the dreamlike sequence was as vivid as reality.

Joyce glanced back at Chloe before exiting; the sound of the shutting door echoing through the environment. The moment froze and her vision returned to her; colour recovering and the pressure easing. Suddenly, Chloe was back to the real world.

 _What…what the fuck just happened!_

Chloe could feel her heart beating its way out of her burning chest. She exhaled desperate breaths and sweat rained down her pale forehead. She released her fierce grip on the necklace and revealed the three pieces of delicately crafted brass still resting on her palm.

She leapt to her feet, charging through the door and bursting into David's room; the sudden entrance causing the reading soldier to jump in surprise.

"Chloe? God, you scared me. I'd appreciate it if you knocked next time, jeez." Chloe's eyes didn't meet David's concerned gaze. "Chloe? You okay?"

Chloe brought her trembling hand back to the necklace resting on her chest. She let it sit on her palm and stared deeply into it; once again soaking in the minor details. Her grip then fastened and just as before; her vision blurred, her colour faded, and the pressure returned.

"Chloe." David's calm voice triggered a strong sense of déjà vu.

"Hi, David." The conversation replayed itself; the same way it did only yesterday. Everything felt so surreal; Chloe could hardly believe the sights she was witnessing. It all felt too authentic to be a dream. It had to be real, but how could it be?

"I think I'll go. I don't wanna bug you for too long." Chloe had almost mouthed every word that left both of their mouths; like a script that was burned into her head. The past Chloe shot her final smile at David and the moment the door had shut once again behind her, Chloe returned to reality.

"Uhh, Chloe?" She heard David call her once more. She blinked rapidly and shook her head to erase the last of the ringing pressure and regain her vision.

"I uhh, sorry. Nevermind." With that, Chloe left as quickly as she entered.

The panicked girl scrambled down the stairs and flew out the front door; snagging her car keys before slamming the door shut.

* * *

Chloe raced up the rising path to the lighthouse; her boots gently digging into the damp earth with every pounding step. She eventually reached the peak; the gloomy evening sky washing over the resting bench atop the cliff.

She halted next to the seat and glanced down at the necklace sitting on neatly on her chest. She scanned it, and clutched it once more.

Thunder crashed down and after a swift flash of light, a devastating tornado appeared before her; charging towards the helpless Arcadia Bay.

"Max…it's time…" She heard her own voice; sorrow and anguish evident in her words. Chloe bolted around her to see herself and Max; her own hands gripping Max's shoulders as if they were an extension of herself.

 _Max…_

Seeing Max again in front of her was invigorating. Setting her eyes on her face with her own eyes and not during a terrifying nightmare mitigated her emotional stress.

As if by instinct, Chloe dashed to her friend; throwing her arms around her only to have them phase through her body. Chloe stared at her now trembling hands. All she wanted was to touch Max once more. It was all she dreamt of. She frantically flailed her arms around inside Max's body, but no contact was made and it only delved Chloe into deeper misery.

"Chloe…" Her name rang through her ears like an angelic song.

"…I'm so, so sorry…I…I don't want to do this." The two embraced each other in a hug; the pouring rain mixing with their tears.

"I know, Max. But we have to. We have to save everybody, okay? And you'll make those fuckers pay for what they did to Rachel." Chloe's words were cold, yet compassionate; something that she couldn't believe she would say herself. "Being together this week…it was the best farewell gift I could've hoped for. You're my hero Max."

Tears began running down Chloe's cheek. She noticed the shining blue of a butterfly painted on a Polaroid, grasped between Max's drenched fingers. The colour almost reflected like a mirror; drawing Chloe's attention like a beacon.

 _Wait…Is she…is she going to do what I think she's going to do?..._

Just as Chloe began assembling the morbid pieces of the puzzle, Max drew in closer to the other girl; the two meeting halfway in a breathless kiss. Their lips met and the two shared their final moment with passion and intensity; before parting and meeting each other's gaze.

"I'll always love you…Now get out of here, please! Do it before I freak!" Her own words began acting as the glue to the shattered puzzle.

 _I'm asking her…to jump back to the bathroom…when I got shot…Max…_

"And Max Caulfield? Don't you forget about me."

"Never." The final word spilled from Max's lips before she turned her back to the sobbing girl. She took the sodden Polaroid by its edges with both hands and began staring deep into its image. With that, Chloe returned to consciousness.

Chloe sunk onto the ground; carefully absorbing what she had just witnessed.

 _I sacrificed myself. Me? But why? I asked her to let me die on that day. Instead, she took the bullet for me. It all makes sense._

" _I couldn't do it…You couldn't die…You're…you're okay now…Chloe…You're safe…"_

The previously disconcerting words were now clear to Chloe. Everything had revealed itself in a single moment; rays of light shining upon once dark spots.

Chloe dragged herself onto the bench and slouched forward; burying her face in her palms. The reasoning behind Max's fate aided Chloe's fight to understand and ultimately accept it.

Chloe felt a gentle touch on her right shoulder.

"It's okay Chlo," Max's soft voice flowed through her ears and danced around in her head.

"I'm here for you."

* * *

 **A/N: Man, these chapters are getting harder to write, I'm just so self-critical and I always think that I'm just not being able to provide you guys with the story you all deserve. I really do hope you guys are still enjoying it.**

 **Now, there are a few things I must address regarding the future of this fic, so if you want to be aware of what I plan to do with it, I suggest you keep reading.**

 **Initially, I planned for this fic to be 10-20 chapters. It was a pretty bold statement and after some deeper planning ahead for the later stages of the story, I've realized that I might only be able to do a dozen; maybe a little less. I just feel like if I made any more; it'd end up being filler nonsense that added very little to the plot, and I don't want that at all. I sincerely apologize to those that I may have deceived with that promise, and I'll make it up by making sure these next chapters are powerful and worth reading. This is still my first fanfic, so I'm learning a lot about this type of writing as I go, so I hope you'll bear with me on that.**

 **Now some news on potential future projects. I've grown a strong passion for fanfic writing at this point that I have started writing up concepts for new stories after Lost Without You. I'm looking to maybe write some happier content this time instead of angst, but I'm still working things out so not much info as of yet.**

 **I still have some interesting ideas for this fic and I hope you'll stick with me to witness those.**

 **That's really all I needed to say, thanks for reading up to here so far. I've been loving the journey every word I type and the support from you all keeps me going. Be sure to leave me some feedback if you have some.**

 **Thanks again, and stay awesome guys.**


	6. Ghost in the Back of Your Head

**Lost Without You**

 **Chapter 6: Ghost in the Back of Your Head**

"It's okay Chlo. I'm here for you." The tranquil voice of Max almost sedated the sobbing Chloe. She darted her head around; expecting to be greeted by emptiness. Instead, her eyes met the shining sapphire pupils of Max, who wore a glowing white sundress with a doe painted across the stomach and right hip.

Chloe was enveloped in Max's sheer beauty, and seeing her friend once again brought cheer to her somber mood.

"Max?..." Chloe called for her friend through forming tears.

"Hey, Che." The cute nickname from her past sent nostalgia and ecstasy through Chloe's veins; causing her to leap to her feet and stare back into Max's perking face.

Chloe almost flew at the shorter girl and her arms wrapped themselves around Max's upper torso. She fully expected her hands to phase through, but to her overjoyed relief; she was able to embrace herself in Max's touch.

"If this is a dream…I don't wanna wake up." Chloe pleaded through desperate tears.

"It's not a dream, Chlo. I'm here." Her reply was preposterous but Chloe couldn't care. "But, Chloe…I'm still dead." Chloe's heart sunk as Max drew away from their hug. As Max stepped back, Chloe scanned her throughout; her figure too lifelike to be a dream.

"You…you can't be. You're right here!" Denial washed over Chloe's logic, just as it did with Rachel.

"I'm currently…speaking to you from the beyond." Max's words struck Chloe into turmoil.

"What?"

"I know it sounds stupid, but it's true. I'm can explain all of this." Chloe was speechless; she lacked the ability to conceive appropriate words to respond to what her friend had just revealed. "There are others like me, Chloe; people who have powers. We watch over the living that carry these powers and sort of…guide them, I guess. I've been watching you all this time."

The bluenette was far from an amateur in terms of comprehending large amounts of life-altering information at once; she could thank Max and her journal for that.

"So…I have powers?" Max sharply chuckled at Chloe's bewildered reply.

"Of course. Did you think all those messed up flashbacks you saw was just you dreaming?"

"I kinda hoped it was."

"Well unfortunately, it wasn't. When I died, I was somehow able to transfer a part of my power to you. Over time, it managed to evolve into a completely new power; the ability to see certain events that occurred in specific locations."

"You…you gave this to me?" Chloe stared down at her bullet necklace, then back at Max.

"Yes. I don't know how."

"I thought you said there were others like you? Wouldn't they know?"

"They said they'd only tell me once I 'settle my wrongs', whatever that means."

Chloe frowned and crossed her arms. Every piece of information she absorbed was just a blur, but her main focus was the fact that she was standing before Max.

"Chloe?" There was a brief pause before the dazed girl was able to provide a response. It was something she needed to know.

"Why did I sacrifice myself?" For the first time since Max 'arrived', Chloe spoke clearly without stutter.

"It was to save Arcadia Bay. You assumed that all the twisted shit that was going on; including the tornado, was because I had first used my powers to save you in the bathroom." Max struggled to explain the story.

"So…I wanted you to let me die…"

"Yes." It was a soft squeak that came out of Max's anxious lips.

"But you sacrificed yourself instead."

"Yes."

"Why?" Max expected her friend to ask this. A single word, yet with so much depth and wondering. Max knew she had to deliver a near-perfect response to convince Chloe that her choice was the only one.

"Because I couldn't let you die. You don't deserve that."

"I do. All I've ever been was a bitter asshole ever since my dad died. I only hurt everyone around me!" Chloe's voice began to shatter like glass.

"You didn't hurt me!"

"How would I know that?! I'm not the same person that you spent that week with!"

"That doesn't matter. You're still Chloe! You're the most amazing person I know and I couldn't live with myself to see you die in a filthy bathroom!"

"You're not the one to make that choice!"

"I had to! No one else could make it for me; you put the decision in _my_ hands!" There was a momentary lapse of silence. The wind drifted across the two girls' skin; relieving the tension between the two with serenity. Birds danced across the late afternoon sky; if the circumstances were different, Chloe would have asked Max to take a picture.

"What do I do now?" Chloe's voice was soft, almost apologetic. Arguing with Max was the last thing she wanted to do, and she also needed answers desperately.

"I don't know. Maybe there's something that we haven't discovered yet."

"What more is there? I got Jefferson arrested-even though I should have killed him-and Nathan's dead." Max stared at the ground with her fingers locked together; twiddling her thumbs in guilt. "Max? What's wrong?"

"I need to tell you something."

"Of course."

"The reason why you didn't kill Jefferson…it was because of me."

"What?"

"I have the ability to manipulate your thoughts. I was able to influence you into getting him arrested, not killed." Chloe wrapped her hands around the back of her neck. It made sense now.

"Why? Out of all people, you should want him dead more than me."

"I thought that too; and I was almost about to let you kill him for what he did to me. But killing him would have only caused more problems. You would have probably been arrested for murder; what good would that do?" Chloe contemplated Max's reasoning for a brief moment. She was never content with the reality that Jefferson was still alive, but her friend's logic was equitable in many ways.

"I guess you're right." Chloe finally agreed.

"When am I ever wrong?" Max smirked and snickered.

"After five years, you're still Max Caulfield. Total smartass." Chloe response prompted abrupt laughter from her friend; sparking confusion. "What's so funny?"

"Nothing. Just déjà vu." Max's mind was drawn back to when Chloe had said that first; during their first official encounter in the bluenette's truck. The repeated sentence reminded Max that despite the fact that the Chloe she spoke to seemed like a completely separate person, she was still Chloe.

"Did you influence me to do anything else?" Chloe tucked her hands into the pockets of her tattered jeans; releasing the tension in her body.

"Yeah. Just a little bit ago actually. I made you come to the lighthouse after you saw your first flashbacks."

"Damn, Max. I guess it all makes sense now."

Max sighed and stepped closer to her nervous friend. There was an emotional silence between the friends before Max broke it with painful words. "I…I have to go…"

Chloe glanced up to see a pouting Max. She wanted to beg her to stay, or at least take her.

"Please don't…" Chloe pleaded for her friend. To see Max again was like an impossible dream come true, and she didn't want to lose it.

"I have to. I wish I could stay here forever, but I'm not allowed to stay here long." Max reluctantly admitted. Chloe was on the verge of diving down and holding onto Max by her ankles; anchor her so she could never leave, but she resisted the temptation.

"The 'others'?" Chloe made a quotation gesture upon mentioning them.

"Yeah. I'm sorry."

"Don't be. Will you be back?"

"I will. Right here."

"Okay. I'll wait for you." There was evident desperation in Chloe's voice. Although she was relaxed to hear that this wouldn't be the only visit from Max, she still had a pain in her heart when she had to bid her farewells.

"I know." Max almost whispered her final words before she formed into glowing white particles that gradually pieced her away; turning her into dust that drifted with the wind. Chloe never left Max's gaze until the fading girl became nothing more than cold air; like she had never appeared in the first place.

* * *

Chloe yanked the truck's gear lever into Park and switched the vehicle off. From beyond her dilapidated metal cocoon, she heard the songs of insects chirping. Lights shone down onto the Blackwell parking lot; illuminating the pavement below in flickering lights.

Chloe exited her truck and sauntered towards the main entrance of the school. With every step, the jingle of the Blackwell keys filled the silent air as they dangled on the loose suspenders of Chloe's jeans.

She halted before the large double doors and retrieved the keys; glaring at them before inserting the front door key into the lock. She twisted her wrist and heard the faint click the door being unlocked.

Chloe cautiously stepped into the pitch black hallways of Blackwell Academy and she squinted her eyes in the darkness to no avail. She fumbled in her pockets for her phone before unleashing its powerful flashlight.

She gingerly explored the halls of the ominous school; the familiar walls insulating the anxiety.

Her eyes caught the attention of the girls' bathroom door. The sight brought back vivid flashbacks of the tragic incident that occurred beyond the door and Chloe shook her head to erase the memories.

 _Focus, Chloe. You're here for a reason._

Chloe had spotted the Blackwell keys that night resting on the dining table; almost beckoning the girl to its presence. She grew an undeniable temptation to break into her former school to hopefully uncover more secrets regarding 'The Week That Never Happened'.

The light shone upon the subtle plaque that read 'Art Room' and her mind immediately returned to the day she had confronted Mark Jefferson. She couldn't help but smirk at her victory, even though she still wished him dead.

She entered the room and scanned her surroundings; nothing of interest catching her eye.

She raised her hand to the bullet necklace and began focusing on it once again, until clutching it firmly once she had soaked in its details.

"Alfred Hitchcock famously called film 'little pieces of time' but he could be talking about photography, as he likely was." The sound of Jefferson's voice brought Chloe into the flashback. Her vision adjusted to the sudden change in time of day; the ghostly darkness shifting to a more reassuring afternoon light.

The once empty classroom was now populated by students; some of which she remembered vaguely.

 _Victoria. God, seeing her even in these crazy flashbacks makes me hella sick._

Chloe scowled at the pixie-haired girl before returning her attention to Jefferson's lecture.

"These pieces of time can frame us in our glory and our sorrow; from light to shadow; from colour to chiaroscuro..." Chloe rolled her eyes from the sheer dreariness of the lecture.

 _Is there a fast forward option with my power? Maybe Max knows._

* * *

Chloe emerged from the classroom, frustrated. She had gained no information regarding what she was searching for, other than the fact that Max really enjoyed taking selfies.

She proceeded to roam the halls in hopes of finding any potential rooms where she could obtain important information; but nothing truly appealed to her.

Chloe then noticed the door that adorned with the plaque that read 'Secretary's Office', and her eyes widened with possibility.

 _Jackpot. Drunkard Well's office._

She dove into abandoned room and stood before the door to Principal Wells' office. She rubbed her hands in devious excitement at the possible gold mine of secrets that lay beyond.

Chloe's hand almost magnetised to the doorknob but her anticipation was shattered when she heard the all too familiar click of a lock. She cursed under her breath and once again pulled out her step-father's keys to Blackwell only to find that none of them worked.

 _This is bullshit! The head of security should have the key to the principal's office. Okay, now I_ know _you're hiding shit, Ray._

Chloe rummaged through the secretary's office; searching for any possible method to gain entry to Wells' lair. To her dismay, she found nothing useful; even on the conspicuous key rack that sat on the wall.

Chloe brought her hands to her hips and sighed in frustration. There was a nagging force in the back of her head that was pushing her to Principal Wells' office; and she knew she would have to be daft to ignore it.

 _Great. Now what do I do?_

As if by an instinct, Chloe's head sunk to her chest; the brass bullets catching her eye. She let the charm rest on her fingers as she focused on it; almost memorizing the details.

She clutched the bullets and the world around her spiraled in the very familiar feeling; blurring vision and black and white colour palette.

Her eyes were greeted by the sight of the secretary locking the door to Wells' office, before situating herself gingerly on her desk to casually type on the desktop computer.

The key to the office rested on the wooden surface of the desk; Chloe's objective now right in front her, yet so far away.

 _Well there's the key, but I can't get it._

 _ **Hey, Chlo.**_

Chloe jumped and yelped. There was an echoing voice in her head that was almost too familiar; Max.

 _ **Calm down, it's me.**_

"Max? What the fuck? Where are you?" Chloe's spoke in an aggressive whisper as her head frantically swung around in search of the source of Max's tranquil voice; but she was nowhere to be found.

 _ **I'm kind of in your head. Sorry.**_

"Are you fucking kidding me?"

 _ **Don't ask how. I'm just here to help you out.**_

"Okay. I guess that's sort of reassuring. Just know you owe me for scaring my ass off like that."

 _ **Ha, ha. I'll find a way to. We've gotta focus though, not much time.**_

"Right. Lead the way, captain."

 _ **Hm, feels nice to be the captain for a change.**_

Chloe sharply chuckled at the nostalgic reference to her and Max's days of imitating pirates. She could sense the laughter in the mystic air of the flashback from the memories in her mind, and even though Max was only a voice in her head she couldn't see, Chloe knew that her friend was smiling with her.

"Max, I need that key but I can't get it. My hand will just phase through it." The secretary was still rapidly beating away at her keyboard; occupied by her late night work.

 _ **Just focus on it. Just like you do with your necklace.**_

Chloe exhaled through her nose; almost doubting Max. However, she obliged and approached the resting key and stared into it.

She could almost feel the rough metal begin to shine as she focused on its details; and she felt the key almost as an extension of herself; as odd as it did sound.

Chloe reached out to the object and grasped it; the metal soothing her hand with an abnormal warmth. She now had possession of the key.

"Hella yes!" Chloe beamed with pride and she could almost hear Max rolling her eyes in distaste.

 _ **Nice work. Didn't think you'd get it the first time.**_

Chloe sarcastically placed her hand on her chest in a gesture of insult. "Were you doubting my abilities? Gosh, Max, I am offended."

 _ **Just use the damn key.**_

Chloe laughed as the secretary began scrambling around her desk; searching for the key that had just mystically disappeared. In the commotion, the woman knocked over her coffee mug; spilling its warm contents onto a set of papers.

Chloe heard the secretary curse under her breath before she began shifting back into the real world.

Chloe faded back into reality and the familiarized herself to her old surroundings. Her eyes eventually caught interest in a set of papers that were now drenched by a large brown stain.

 _Holy shit. That's so surreal. I just changed the present._

Chloe shook her head and returned her attention to the office door. She stared at the key in which she now held in her possession and grinned; tt had been a rather proud moment for her.

With a quick insert and twist of the key; the door unlocked, and Chloe immediately swung it open; entering the office as if she owned it.

"Open sesame! You proud, Max?" Chloe boasted expecting an annoyed reaction from her friend. The room was silent.

"Max?" The continued silence was discomforting. Chloe pouted; already missing the sound of her friend's voice.

She turned her focus on the task at hand; digging through Ray Wells' office. She planted herself onto his rather distasteful chair but immediately leaned back the moment she realized how comfortable it was.

 _Okay, it's ugly; but_ damn _this is a cozy chair._

She made quick work of Wells' computer; briskly searching through each folder and only analysing files that caught her eye as she skimmed them.

Chloe had been right about the office being a gold mine; information regarding Nathan, Jefferson, and even Rachel littered the principal's computer; infesting the girl's mind with knowledge.

She had copied any interesting files onto her flash drive before she decided to escape before she got caught; but she halted at the doorway as soon as the thought of her necklace entered her mind.

Chloe immediately engaged into a flashback and the abandoned office chair was now occupied by Ray Wells.

Three knocks on the door filled the room and Wells immediately looked up to the source of the noise; interrupting him from his whiskey.

"Come in." He called as he deposited his bottle of alcohol under his desk; hiding it from view.

Mark Jefferson stepped into the room and Chloe felt chills run down her spine.

"Mark. What brings you here?" Ray asked while he was still relaxed in the chair.

"We need to talk." Jefferson spoke with a stern tone to his voice; almost demanding.

"Sure. Talk." Wells gestured his guest to speak; the photographer with his hands on his hips in an almost sassy fashion.

"You're not keeping your end of the deal." Chloe sensed a burning anger in Jefferson's voice.

"Mark, I did everything you asked me to do, what more do you want?"

"I wanted funds. My Dark Room isn't going to keep itself afloat."

"I gave you what you needed."

"No, you were three thousand short." There was a silence from Wells after Jefferson's last remark.

"Fine. I was short. I can't keep this up, Mark; I just don't have enough money to pay you."

"Need I remind you of the consequences you'll face should you not meet the requirements of our little 'agreement'?" The blatant tone in Jefferson's voice was easily recognizable as threatening.

"I'm not trying to break our deal, it's just that I need time."

"I don't have time, Ray. You very well know that."

"Well, I don't have money."

"Do you really want me to go tell the police about your little secret?"

"Mark…"

"I can have you in jail with a simple phone call."

"Let's not get ahead of ourselves." Ray stood up from his seat and approached Jefferson; his hands in front as a symbol of surrender.

"You're bringing this upon yourself, Ray. If you hadn't let Nathan kill himself that day, I'd still be backed by the Prescotts and wouldn't have to rely on you for my funds. Now they've ditched this shithole town and left you and me to rot with it."

"We can settle on something where we can both be comfortable-"

"To be honest, I'm pretty comfortable where I am. Being able to boss you around is a great feeling."

There was a tense silence; Chloe could tell from the look in Wells' eyes that he was helpless despite his position as Jefferson's superior.

"Here's the deal: You get me my funds by the end of the week, I don't tell the Arcadia Bay police force about your little agreement that you had with the Prescotts."

"I need more time than that…"

"That's more time than you can ever imagine. Be grateful I'm giving you so long." Jefferson turned to leave but halted just as he was about to exit the room. "You have _no_ idea how lucky you are to have been spared by me. I could have killed you right then and there; no one would have even known. _Don't_ make me change my mind, Ray." Jefferson stepped out; slamming the door shut behind him. Wells sighed and returned to his seat; immediately resorting to the whiskey he had previously stored.

Chloe returned to consciousness and began soaking in what she had witnessed. There were still many missing pieces of the puzzle, and Chloe was determined to find them. However, it was getting far too late for her own comfort, so she darted out the room and left Blackwell for home.

* * *

Chloe stared at the large board scattered with pieces of information. She lifted the beanie off her head to run her fingers through her cobalt hair before tossing the clothing onto her bed.

Her clock read 4:12 AM. Chloe could almost feel the caffeine surging through her veins, almost mixing with her blood.

She reached over to her desk and snatched the mug that sat amongst the pile of papers across the workspace. She gulped down the last of the beverage before slamming it back onto its original position; the force rattling the furniture.

The board before her displayed a canvas of all the information she had gathered regarding Jefferson, Wells, Nathan, Rachel, and so on. Scraps and cuts of paper littered the wooden surface; all of them being connected in a vast web of knowledge.

Despite the immense effort to uncover the many secrets that were still floating about; many things were still left unknown.

Chloe sighed and fell onto her bed; slightly bouncing on the mattress as she landed. Her mind raced with thoughts that she struggled to ignore. She looked forward to the day where she could lay all this to rest; move on with her life; life without Max.

Chloe still found it troublesome to wrap her head around the idea of spending the rest of her life without her childhood friend. She had imagined them spending their lives together; living every day like their last.

The punk shredded her thoughts of the distant future and focused on the present. Tomorrow would be another day of relentless searching; another day to inch herself closer to the inevitable truth.

Chloe stared at the ceiling; her mind now starting to calm itself as her thoughts began to lay rest. As Chloe began to fixate her mind on the image of a smiling Max, her eyes grew heavy and she fell asleep.

* * *

 **A/N: A rather interesting change of story with this chapter. I've always planned to take this story towards Max's powers and the supernatural stuff behind it, and I hope you guys like it. Lots of story to uncover with the coming chapters, yet so little time with exams around the corner. Expect a brief hiatus in a little bit.**

 **For those who aren't aware, I have a new fan fiction! The story's called 24-7 and you can find it on my profile. This one is almost the polar opposite of Lost Without You since it's more fluffy and focuses on an AU for Pricefield. The first chapter was released two days ago so if you wanna see some happy, Pricefield fluff, please check it out.**

 **Much love for the continued support, never thought I'd get more than 10 views, to be honest. The story reached over a thousand viewers a few days ago and the count is still growing as it sits at over 1500 now. It may not seem like much, but I'm not used to getting any recognition at all for anything I do so it baffles me to see that 1500 people have seen this. Each one of you who reads my content are hella awesome and you keep me going.**

 **Stay awesome, guys. See ya next chapter.**


	7. Future Dust

**Chapter 7: Future Dust**

Chloe's head shot up awake and she inhaled a sharp gasp. She familiarized herself to her bedroom before calming down. She rubbed the sleep away from her eyes and noticed the rising light seeping through the gap between her curtains. The clock read 6:46 AM and Chloe groaned.

She was immensely tired from the grueling hours of piecing the puzzle together and wished she could lay back down to sleep forever, however, her mind was wide awake and refused to rest.

The annoyed punk slid off from her bed and stretched her back. The events of the previous night crashed down on her like a pouring waterfall, the visions of Jefferson and Wells brought the return of so many questions.

Chloe left her room and descended to the kitchen, swinging open the fridge door to retrieve a carton of milk. She began preparing herself a rather simplistic breakfast of corn flakes, but the mysteries behind Blackwell Academy could not be ignored.

 _What did Wells have with the Prescotts?_

 _What happened between Jefferson and Wells that would cause Mark to consider killing him?_

 _How did Wells know about the Dark Room?_

On and on, the questions festered in Chloe's head like a flame in a forest, rapidly growing worse by the second.

She had been so caught up in her own thoughts that she hadn't noticed that she was overflowing the bowl of corn flakes with milk.

"Shit." Chloe cursed under her breath as she reached for a kitchen towel, abhorring her own clumsiness.

As she wiped across the counter, Chloe's eye caught the compact television that rested in the corner. It reminded her of the fact that she had made little to no contact with the media world ever since Max's death, and she decided that switching on the news for a brief moment would do no harm. Or at least she hoped.

She tossed the sodden towel into the sink and turned the television on. The display flickered to life as the image of a news anchor dressed formally in a suit flashed on the screen.

 _Economics, boring. Sports, boring. Some lady getting her purse stolen, boring. Maybe this was a bad idea._

Chloe could only roll her eyes at the trivial events that occurred within the Arcadia Bay area, but before she could shut off the television and immediately regret her decision, the next story caught her attention.

"Investigations continue at Blackwell Academy a week after the arrest of Mark Jefferson, a famous photographer and teacher who was revealed to have been behind various kidnappings of numerous teenage girls." An image of Jefferson displayed in the corner of the screen and it nearly prompted Chloe to throw her fist into the television in anger. Her attentiveness grew as the story continued. "Jefferson had apparently drugged several girls in order to take photos of them while they lay unconscious in a storm shelter converted to a photography stage. Police continue their investigations of the room and no details have yet to be revealed as of yet. This arrest occurs only two weeks following the tragic death of Maxine Caulfield, after she was shot in the school bathroom." An image of Max displayed on the corner of the screen which only sparked morbid flashbacks of the incident.

A single tear droplet splattered on the counter, and Chloe was quick to wipe away any more that dared to escape her eyes.

She shut the television off before the anguish could take over. An exasperated sigh exhaled from her mouth as she slouched over the counter, her palms flat on the granite surface.

Within her peripherals was her bullet necklace, and by instinct, her fingers gently grazed the brass surface of the charm.

Chloe turned and gingerly entered the living room, scanning the space as if it was her first time visiting.

She wanted to see Max again, and she hoped that a flashback could fulfill her desperate wish. She wondered if focusing on Max could possibly spark a prompt that would allow her to view her past with her deceased friend.

Chloe concentrated hard, letting the images of Max's smiling face pour into her mind like a tidal wave of memories.

By her growing habit, Chloe stared deeply into the necklace, absorbing its details before she squeezed it into her hand.

The familiar sensation of the fading colours returned, and the feeling of added pressure to her body was something that she had gotten used to, degrading to an unnoticeable buzz.

"Don't be greedy, gimme some!" The voice of a young Max soothed Chloe's ears and brought memory of the dream she had two weeks ago. Before the her mind could catch up to the image of the ghoulish Max coldly whispering in her ear, Chloe's attention turned to the younger reflection of her as well as Max.

She couldn't help but smile at the sight of one of her most cherished memories with her friend, their first 'wine tasting session'.

Max leaned forward abruptly, causing the blonde to clumsily spill the bottle of cheap wine onto the carpet, staining the cloth with a very noticeable maroon spot.

"There's wine all over! What do we do?!" The two girls began pacing the floor, panicking and conceiving the best ways to hide the incident from Chloe's parents.

Chloe felt herself fixating her sight deeply into the eyes of her younger self. For a reason she couldn't explain, she felt as if this younger form of herself was becoming some form of spiritual extension.

The younger Chloe turned to dash for the kitchen, running through the punk version of herself. while Max stood with her hands on the back of her head, frightened from the situation.

In a sudden, exhilarating moment, Chloe felt a surge of force, pulling her into her panicking reflection as she phased through her body.

A flash of light corrupted her eyes for a split second before her vision returned. The colours of the room flowed into Chloe's retinas, a refreshing change of view compared to the black-and-white of the flashback. Her eyes were widened, darting across the room, confused as to what had happened.

 _What…? What happened?_

"Chloe?" A soft voice from behind shook the anxious girl, and her head shot back to see the young Max. "What's going on?" The panic was evident in her voice.

"Max…?" Chloe brought her hands to her view. Her fingers were smaller, and bringing her sight downward to her body made her heart race.

Her eyes caught the text that read 'Arcadia Bay' in brazen font across a vibrant purple shirt, instead of the punk tank top that she had chosen to wear that morning.

Max approached her startled friend, wondering what had shaken her so much.

"Are you okay? You look really pale." Max held Chloe by her shoulders in a comforting manner.

 _This isn't happening. Did that just happen? Am I me from the past?_

"I uhh…I'm fine. Sorry about that." Chloe cleared her throat as she maintained a calm tone.

She turned to face the kitchen to focus on her apparent objective, but before she could take a step, she heard the lock of the front door turn and Max immediately began to rush around the room in a dazed frenzy.

Chloe felt a wave of emotion crash over her crowded mind when she saw who had entered the home.

"Daddy!" A shudder tainted Chloe's voice as she flew towards her father. She wrapped her arms around the man in an almost strangling grasp.

"Whoa, Chloe. What's going on?" William looked down at his daughter who could no longer hold back her grief. His jacket was dampened by Chloe's tears. "Chloe, are you okay, dear?" There was now a concern to his voice as his daughter refused to let go.

"I just…I missed you…" Just as the final words left her mouth, her vision faded to white and returned after a brief moment of blankness.

Chloe inhaled a sharp gasp as her eyes readjusted to the sight of her living room. The space was haunted by an unsettling emptiness that Chloe found no comfort in. She looked down to see that she had returned to her present self. Her head swung to the direction of the front door with an improbable hope that she would be greeted by her father. To no surprise, no one waited for her.

 _Did that…Fuck. I just…saw dad again…It was really him…_

There was no fight this time. Teardrops rained from Chloe's shut eyes as she collapsed onto the hard floor, her arms wrapped around her retracted legs.

Minutes passed and the silence of the room was pierced by cries of anguish. It had only been a brief moment where she had the opportunity to embrace herself with her father once more, but it had been precious to her and she only wished to be able to do it again.

She finally vented her depression and wiped away the remaining tears. She regained herself and rose back up to her feet, releasing the final breaths of her mourning from her cold lips.

A million questions aroused in her mind, scorching within her head. She wanted to believe that it never happened, it couldn't. One theory stood out among the others. One that she couldn't believe herself, despite what she had endured the past three weeks. Could she change the present?

Chloe could resist the temptations no longer. She stomped back to the living room and repeated the process.

Stare, focus, clutch.

The scene returned, but this time, Chloe immediately jumped into her other self. The sensation was still queer and it sent a surge of an unusual feeling throughout her body.

The same had happened. Once the white faded away, she saw the young Max once more, but through the eyes of her younger self. In her hand she held the bottle of wine, gripping it tightly.

"Don't be greedy, gimme some!" The words sent a strong sense of déjà vu into Chloe, and Max began gesturing for the bottle.

"No way, this is woman's drink." Chloe could only play along in order to avoid any suspicions from the oblivious Max. She put on her most convincing playful tone and pulled the bottle away from the prying hands of her friend, utilising her height to her advantage.

"Chloe, come on!" Max hopped, reaching desperately out for the alcohol.

"Fine, but be careful. Don't spill it." Chloe reluctantly handed Max the bottle, watching attentively as the girl took a hesitant sip.

No sudden lunge forward. No clumsy spill. No carpet stain.

The scene wore away and Chloe returned to reality. Without readjusting herself, she focused her attention to the carpet.

She was right. There was no stain. It was if it never happened.

 _Holy shit…I can…I can change the present…_

Chloe stood in the living room, astounded by what she had witnessed. She had always believed her powers were limited to the flashback itself, but discovering this new aspect had completely altered her perception.

Was this the full extent of what she was capable of? What else could she do? These were questions she could only answer through experimentation.

However, there were pressing matters to attend to, and Chloe would not distract herself any longer. She left the house for Blackwell.

* * *

"Chloe, please, come in." Ray Wells stood from his desk to amiably greet the girl. He gestured to the seat in front of his desk and Chloe planted herself firmly into the chair. "What is it you want to speak to me about?"

 _Fuck this. No bullshit, straight to the point, Chloe._

"Alright, Ray-can I call you Ray?" Chloe interrupted herself.

"Well, you're obviously not going to call me 'principal', given the circumstances. Ray is fine."

"Great. Listen, I'm gonna get straight to the point." Chloe's voice was stern, forward. It somewhat intimidated Wells.

"Alright, what is it?"

"What business did you have with the Prescotts?" Chloe noticed a subtle jump in the man, but he still managed to hide it well.

"I'm sure you know. They provided generous donations for Blackwell, it's how it still stands today." Ray was obviously avoiding the truth. Chloe refused to let him.

"No. I'm not talking about what's clear as fucking day."

"Then what _are_ you talking about?" Ray was beginning to grow impatient, as did Chloe.

"Your 'little agreement'." Chloe made air quotes and she could easily recognize the sudden fear in Ray as she mentioned the words.

"I'm afraid I don't know what you're talking about."

"Here's the deal: You get me my funds by the end of the week, I don't tell the Arcadia Bay police force about your little agreement that you had with the Prescotts." Chloe blatantly quoted Jefferson from the conversation she had witnessed the day before, and Ray knew very well that she had. His breathing grew heavy and sweat began to drip down his forehead.

"I…I don't know what you're talking about." In a flash, the authoritative statuses swapped. Chloe now had Wells by the throat.

"Enough with the stalling, Ray. I need answers, _now_." Chloe brought her fist hard onto the desk, generating a quake across the wood. "You had a deal with Jefferson that required you to drop piles of cash right at his feet in order for him to keep a certain deal between you and the Prescotts a secret. What was the deal?" Her voice grew in volume and force.

"How do you know all of this? How?"

"That doesn't matter, just talk." Ray could only stutter at Chloe's demands but he refused to conform.

"Never. You have no place in any of this and I refuse to tell you."

"Is it 'cause you're afraid? I get it. You wanna forget any of this happened, but it's not that easy. Trust me, I know. Just tell me what happened and I promise you I'll get to the bottom of whatever this is."

"There's nothing to get to the bottom of. I have no idea how you managed to find this out, but all that matters is that whatever happened, happened. I'd prefer not to dwell on the past, so if you could leave my office, that would be appreciated." Wells' voice was almost threatening, and Chloe could tell he was on the verge of calling for security. Aggravated, but at the same time not wanting an awkward encounter with her step-father, she obliged and stood to leave. A tense silent split the two as Chloe approached the door to exit. Before she did however, she shot one final glance at Wells who watched and finally decided to flashback.

"Mr. Prescott, what brings you here?" Wells' professional tone was the first sound Chloe heard as she entered the flashback.

A formally dressed middle-aged man assertively entered the office, inspecting the various pieces of tacky art around the room. He finally drew his attention to Wells who could only observe the man.

 _Sean Prescott. Son of a bitch._

"Well, Pan Estates required my presence so I thought I'd stop by to see how you were doing." His tone carried an intimidating calmness to it, and it was blatantly obvious that he wasn't there to simply visit.

"Oh. Uh…please, take a seat." Chloe could sense the genuine fear in Wells' voice, well masked by his authoritative demeanor. Prescott obliged and gently rested himself onto the seat. There was a tense silence as he examined the neat state of Wells' desk, and Chloe could feel the anxiety that was being insulated within the walls.

"So, how's Nathan?" Prescott finally broke the silence.

"He's doing well." Wells gave a minimalistic answer to the question.

"I wouldn't want to have heard any less."

"Of course, Mr. Prescott." Wells gave an awkward forced chuckle.

"Has he caused any trouble?" Prescott was hiding something, it was obvious the moment he entered the room. Chloe analysed every word he spoke, every action he made to give herself clues as to what it was.

"No, of course not." Wells nervously shook his head.

"Especially any incidents involving narcotics on school property?" Wells gulped hard.

"No. I'm afraid I don't know what you are talking about, Mr. Prescott." It was obvious that the wealthy man was controlling Wells like a puppet, and Chloe inched closer to the truth behind it all.

"Good. You keep this up, Ray. I'll be sure to keep my end of the deal."

"Of course. I hate to ask this, but…have you taken care of everything?" Prescott chuckled.

"It's been done. IRS won't know a thing as usual." Prescott stood to depart, leaving a subtle sigh of relief from Wells.

 _IRS? Is he helping Wells with tax evasion?_

It seemed perfectly reasonable. The conversation until this point had made things rather clear, a barter between the two that allowed Nathan to cause havoc amidst the school, scot-free, while Wells enjoyed the luxuries of avoiding taxes. Chloe clenched her fists.

"Oh, before you leave." Wells anxiously called for Prescott, who halted on the spot and turned his head. "I need to talk to you about Nathan and his…weapon."

"What about it?"

"I'm concerned, Mr. Prescott. I'm worried he may hurt someone with it especially considering his mental conditions."

"I gave that firearm to my son for his birthday. It's a part of our deal that you let him carry it without batting an eye."

"I just think we could possibly reconsider-"

"There's nothing to consider, Ray. Don't make me repeat myself." Prescott left, leaving Wells with a craving for whiskey and Chloe with an animosity in her heart.

 _That fucker. It's his fault. Max is dead because of that rich piece of shit._

Before she could release her bottled anger, the flashback ended, sending Chloe back to the real world.

She stared back at the confused Wells with ferocity, now knowing that he played a considerable part in the death of her best friend.

She wanted to lunge at him, strangle him by the throat and kill him right then and there, but she knew that the future ahead contained more to it then it seemed.

Without another word, Chloe left, stomping out of the office and exiting the school.

* * *

"Max?" Chloe called out as she stepped onto the clearing by the lighthouse. The evening was beginning to settle in to replace the afternoon with a tranquil autumn breeze, and Arcadia Bay was yet again graced by the presence of the setting sun.

Chloe searched around, but the spirit of her friend was nowhere to be seen. She began doubting herself, maybe her first encounter with Max had just been a hallucination. Maybe Chloe had fallen over the edge of sanity and was descending into the abyss of grief, unable to accept Max's death despite what she had believed.

Before she could forget she ever decided to come, a familiar voice relieved her ears.

"Hey, Chlo." Chloe darted her head back to see Max, wearing a different sundress than the one she wore previously, this one bearing a vibrant morpho butterfly across an azure canvas.

"Hi." Chloe's voice was soft, welcoming. The two had thought the same and met halfway in a long awaited hug.

"You've been rather busy." Max remarked, prompting a brief chuckle from Chloe.

"I have been, haven't I?" The two finally parted and struck each other with a warming gaze.

"I've noticed you've been getting used to your powers." Max pointed to the dangling bullet necklace.

"That I have been." Chloe nodded. "Just as I started getting familiar with it, I find out I can change the present. This power has the worst timing, am I right?" Chloe's intended joke sparked a rather surprised look on Max's face, as if she had been given abrupt news.

"Wait, what did you say?" Max tightened a grip on Chloe's shoulder.

"I can change the present. I thought you knew that, didn't you say you've been watching over me or something?" Chloe seemed just as surprised as Max was, but for a different reason.

"I have, but I never saw you change anything."

"Wait." Chloe held a momentary silence as she considered the possibility of something almost improbable. "Max, do you remember the time when you and I tried some of my mom's wine?"

"Yeah, you flashed back to that today. How is this relevant?"

"Just hear me out. Do you remember how we spilled it?"

"No we didn't. I remember we each had a sip and put the bottle back before your dad got home." Chloe stumbled back upon hearing Max's side of the story.

"Holy shit…" The punk brought her hand to her lips, and Max stood watching in confusion.

"Chloe, what is it?" Max began approaching her friend.

"You didn't see it. It was…as if that was how everything happened. No spill." Chloe tried to wrap it all around her head, questioning every aspect.

"Chloe, tell me what's going on, you're freaking me out."

"When I flashed back, I was able to somehow…take control of myself from the past. From there, I managed to prevent what originally happened that day. We spilled the wine, Max, but I changed the present to where it never happened." There was a silence between the girls as they both struggled to understand everything.

Chloe had imagined that she had witnessed and experienced the most ludicrously impossible things one could even dream of, but her power had always managed to prove her wrong. With the added factor that Max's memory of spilling wine on Chloe's carpet had been completely erased, Chloe began realizing that she had drastically underestimated the full capabilities of what she could do.

"Is that all you changed?" Max finally broke the silence, seeming calmer after the brief moment of contemplation.

"Yeah. I was just too hella freaked out by it all that I didn't want to."

"Okay, good." Max exhaled a sigh of relief.

The sun continued to descend, and the two couldn't help but become captivated by the alluring scene that they witnessed atop the cliff.

They could only brace themselves for the grueling journey that lay ahead. So many pieces remained undiscovered but Chloe was determined to find them. With the truth behind Wells and Sean Prescott now revealed, Chloe planned her next actions. They seemed daunting, almost frightening to the fearless girl. She wasn't fazed, however. She had the only person she ever needed to guide her.

Max Caulfield.

* * *

 **A/N: Finally, exams are over which means I can sit back for two months and get writing. Sorry for the long wait between chapters, but I can finally start getting back into gear again. I'll be pumping out chapters much more frequently now.**

 **Not much else to say other than that. I guess I could shamelessly plug in my other fanfic again. It's called 24/7, there's fluff, and loads of it. Show some love if you can. :)**

 **Hope you enjoyed, and stay awesome, guys.**


	8. Walk Into the Haze

**Chapter 8: Walk Into the Haze**

The sound of clattering keys echoed throughout the deserted living room of the Price household.

Chloe flicked the switch on the wall and the room was illuminated by a refreshing wave of light that washed away the intimidating darkness of the room before.

A sticky note awaited Chloe's attention on the fridge, and the drained girl detached the message and brought it close to her drowsy eyes.

" _Chloe, will be working extra late at the diner today. Be back midnight. Frozen pizza in the fridge if you're hungry._

 _-XOXO, Mom"_

Chloe crumpled the note in irritation and carelessly tossed it away onto the floor. She swung the door of the fridge open and snatched a bottle of beer that rested next to the pizza that her mother had promised.

Glancing over the food, she shut the door once her feeble fingers grasped the cold, damp glass surface of the bottle.

Chloe let out an exasperated sigh as she flumped onto the dusty couch in the main living space.

She cracked open the bottle and gulped down a generous swig of the beverage.

The silence of the room was disconcerting, and the isolation brought a return to many haunting emotions that Chloe had struggled to erase years before.

Anxiety crashed over the girl, only because she finally allowed it to, she refused to fight it any longer. Her mind and body was suffering from immense pain from the events that had dragged her to this point, and she finally released all the anguish stored within her in the form of tears that descended onto the aged carpet below.

Within Chloe's blurry peripherals was the stainless spot where wine had once been splattered upon.

It still astounded her that she was capable of such power. The past five years of her life that had been lived with the intention of sending the world to Hell, had been flipped now that she bore the power to change it.

She knew that she had been given the power for a reason, one beyond her own explanation, and likely beyond that of Max's. It didn't matter. All she cared about was bringing an end to the tyrannical Sean Prescott and avenging her friend.

Her eyes were fixated on the blank spot, and she visualized the maroon stain that had been present before.

Using the sleeve of her blazer, Chloe wiped away her tears and chugged down another gulp of the alcohol, letting out a slight shudder from the sudden rush of chilled liquid.

She gripped the bottle harder and stood up from her perch, marching her way up the steps to her room.

The door to her darkened chamber swung open, and Chloe immediately set her sights for the bed. She slumped down on the side of the mattress, the bottle still resting in her hand with its contents swishing inside.

She consumed another intoxicating sip of the beer and hung her head down in pondering. Just a brief moment of contemplation made Chloe realize the weight of the task she carried on her shoulders.

The stress of the upcoming burden rained down on her like a brutal thunderstorm and she felt her body tense up in anxiety.

She had never felt this type of pressure before, and with Max counting on her to get it right, Chloe began to shatter from nervousness.

As the contained thoughts of her mission continued to roam free throughout her brain, a new wave of emotions that had been locked away emerged, emotions that Chloe never wanted to remember.

Images of Max and Rachel began pouring into her mind and it reminded her of the fact that even if she were to successfully defeat Prescott, she would still be completely alone. No Max, no Rachel, no one.

Tears returned and Chloe helplessly whimpered as they began dripping from her eyes like a faulty tap.

Soon, misery transitioned to anger, and the distressed girl began clutching the bottle hard enough that her hand grew red from the vigorous grasp.

Chloe let out a shriek of fury and hurled the bottle at the wall with great force, the shattering of glass echoing through the dingy room.

She panted, and with every heaving breath, she felt as if a portion of her animosity was being exhaled out of her body along with her shivering breath.

Her eyes were drawn to the glimmering shards of glass that were scattered across the floor on a large stain of beer.

Chloe cursed under her breath as her heart began to calm, she took off her beanie and ran her icy fingers through her hair, becoming damp as they sifted through the sweat.

To calm her rushing mind, Chloe approached the Hi-Fi that rested neatly on top of her unorganized shelf and hit the 'play' button, disregarding the concern for which song would come on. All she desired were the sounds of music, something to soothe her head.

With a click, the acoustic sounds of 'Piano Fire' filled the room, and Chloe's stress was almost entirely relieved.

She let the sound of the drums and guitars take her to a different world, one that didn't weigh down on her shoulders.

She freed all the weight in her body and collapsed onto the bed to lay flat on her back with her eyes staring blankly into the ceiling.

Through some thought in the back of her head that had emerged from nowhere in particular, Chloe's hand ran up to her chest until it came in contact with the smooth metal surface of her bullet charm.

She raised the necklace to her eyes, focused deeply into it, and shifted into another flashback.

The joyous sounds of childish laughter overwhelmed Chloe's eardrums, and she immediately recognized them as her own and Max's, but from many years before.

Her eyes never left the gaze of the ceiling and she faintly heard the sounds of crayons scribbling across a page amidst the boisterous giggles of her and her friend.

"Chloe, that's too much blue!" She heard Max complain, holding back fits of laughter.

"There's _never_ too much blue, Max!" The young Chloe argued.

Chloe's world changed, and the worry and pressure that had cursed her before evaporated into a disappearing mist. A tear formed and ran down her cheek, and Chloe unwillingly broke into a peaceful smile.

The playful sounds of hysterics continued to delight Chloe as she remained motionless in her bed, and the laughter acted as a serene lullaby as she drifted off to sleep.

* * *

Chloe scratched her head she ambled down the steps, still blinking away the grogginess in her eyes.

Through her blurred vision, she recognized the diner uniform-wearing figure of her mother, glancing back at her as she approached the kitchen.

"Morning, dear." Joyce's smile came into view as Chloe's eyesight returned to normal and she sent her a smile back. "Bacon and eggs?"

Chloe drowsily nodded. She felt unusually cordial to her mother, it seemed peculiar but was a welcome change to her.

"Oh, by the way, I found this flash drive in your jeans the other day when I was doing laundry, thought you'd like it back." Her mother pointed to the marble counter next to her where a bright red flash drive sat innocently, beckoning to Chloe. It was the same one she had used back at Wells' office when she had broken in that night, but the clutter of overwhelming events had caused her to completely forget about its existence.

"Thanks." Chloe nodded and snatched the drive and sunk it into her pocket, determined to indulge in its contents in the near future.

The waking girl perched herself lazily onto a dining chair, staring blankly at the newspaper before her.

Mundane information entered her mind but quickly exited as Chloe chose not to focus on the trivialities of Arcadia Bay, glossing over the articles containing useless information about sports, politics, and weather that she found no interest in.

However, she jumped at the sight of a particular story that immediately caught her attention. Her eyes widened and her mouth was left agape.

" _Blackwell Academy Principal Ray Wells found Dead in Office"_

Her mother noticed her daughter's sudden consternation and instantly grew worried.

"Chloe, what's wrong?" Joyce's stunned daughter was briefly taken out of the shocking moment and blinked her eyes back to normal.

"I uhh…I'm fine…" Chloe shook her head and fixated her attention back to the article in a slightly calmer mood, but her heart was still exhilarated.

She read over the bolded text over and over again, but it still read the same:

" _Blackwell Academy Principal Ray Wells found Dead in Office"_

She had to delve deeper.

" _Arcadia Bay mourns the loss of the beloved principal of Blackwell Academy, Ray Wells, who was found dead in his school office last night. Police suspect that the cause of death was suicide as a loaded handgun was found in his hand as well as a gunshot wound to his temple. Wells was also found to have been intoxicated at the time of death, according to the autopsy, and further investigations are currently being conducted by Arcadia Bay's police force. The death comes only a month after the tragedy involving Blackwell students Maxine Caulfield and Nathan Prescott, where the latter had shot Maxine in the school bathroom, ultimately leading to her unfortunate death. Prescott then put the gun to himself and ended his own life, and it seems Blackwell has yet to see the worst now that their principal has done the same. Police are currently looking into all three casualties as it is suspected that they all have some form of connection between each other, but no information has yet to have been released._

Chloe leaned back in her chair and placed her hands on the back of her head in revelation, and she involuntarily began crafting convoluted theories in her head. Before she could come to any conclusions however, she needed to find precise answers, and she knew exactly where to find them.

* * *

A police cruiser was parked in the lot of Blackwell Academy, isolated under the light of the many street lamps above.

Chloe shifted her truck into 'park' and exited, inhaling one final drag of her cigarette before stomping it out on the asphalt of the road.

She left the rigid vehicle by the side of the road, only a few meters away from the Blackwell lot, and strode her way to the rear of the truck. She swung the tailgate open and leaned forward to grab a sturdy wooden baseball bat that was nested beside a pile of boxes that lay in disarray, and she carefully examined the details of the rough wood.

She began her approach towards the police vehicle in a daring manner, a bold attitude with ever step she took. The head of the bat rested on her right hand, and her grasp on the handle tightened as she prepared for her undaunted move.

She halted next to the car, the sleek metal shining under the flickering lights of the lamp above her.

 _Sorry car._

With that thought, she gripped the handle of the bat with both hands, raised it in the air above her head with tenacity, and swung down with a brutal force, striking the vehicle's windshield with an unforgiving blow.

Immediately, the alarm of the car went wild, and Chloe took the cue to dart for the bushes.

She dove behind the dense foliage, bat still loosely held in her hand, and waited for the perfect moment to make her move.

Predictably, two officers bolted out of Blackwell Academy and rushed to their car, cursing into the night sky at its new condition. Chloe couldn't help but maniacally giggle at her heinous act, and she stealthily escaped the bushes and sprinted to the front door, cautious to not be caught by the distracted officers.

With the school all to herself for a window of time now that the officers guarding it were now occupied, Chloe crashed into Wells' office, tearing through the police tape that protected it from outsiders.

The room was almost untouched, with the exception of forensic tags that labeled various objects of interest throughout the office.

Chloe gently rested the bat next to the door, and quickly jumped to business.

Wasting no time, Chloe brought her necklace to her face and focused, staring deeply into the bullets as she had grown a habit of.

The familiar sensation returned, and Chloe was drawn into the flashback immediately.

Ray Wells sat at his desk, gulping down glass after glass of whiskey. He looked heavily intoxicated, and his movements were sluggish as he gently swayed in his chair.

The room had an evident lack of natural light, with only the desk lamp illuminating the dim scene.

Wells poured himself another round of alcohol, pouting when he noticed that he was on his final drops from the bottle.

The sound of an opening door frightened both Chloe and Wells, prompting a subtle jump from both of them.

A dark figure entered the room boasting a full black trench coat. The gloominess of the office made it difficult for Chloe to recognize the individual initially, but as the man approached the drunken Wells with every threatening step, she knew who it was:

Sean Prescott.

"Mister…Mr. Prescott…?" Wells' words were slurred, and Prescott pretended to not hear him. "What…what are you doing here…?"

Without a word, Prescott inserted his gloved hand into his coat pocket and ambled behind Wells' chair, holding the tipsy man firmly in place when he tried to turn to face him.

Prescott's free hand held Wells' head still, and finally drew his other hand out from its nest within his trench coat, revealing a suppressed handgun.

Chloe could only watch in horror as the man held the barrel of the firearm to Wells' temple and pull the trigger without hesitation, still remaining dead silent.

Wells could only helplessly take the bullet, and his head sunk sideways, lifeless and now growing cold with every passing second.

Prescott sighed and casually unscrewed the suppressor off the pistol as he stared at the corpse of Ray Wells, laid back in his authoritative seat with blood leaking from the puncture in his head.

He deposited the suppressor back into his trench coat and placed the handgun into the inert hand of the dead principal, forcing a feign grasp on the weapon.

With his work completed and his fraudulent scene crafted to perfection, Prescott exited the room, refusing to look back at the image he had created and leaving with such a casual attitude, as if he had committed murder before.

The flashback faded away as Chloe returned to the present office.

She needed hours, if not days to process what she had witnessed. Likely the vengeance of Nathan, a personal vendetta against Ray Wells. Prescott deemed Wells responsible for his son's death, denying that his own lack of assistance during his child's desperate period of mental instability had no contribution to his untimely demise. It all made perfect sense to Chloe, but she still needed time to polish her newfound theory.

Chloe's priorities were clear, however, she needed to escape before the officers returned, which they inevitably would.

She shook the sight of Wells' body out of her head for the time being and bolted out of the office, scampering out of the building in a frantic hurry.

* * *

With the flash drive plugged in, Chloe booted up her laptop, tapping her fingers against the surface of her desk impatiently.

The sound of her nails drumming against the wood synchronised well with the knocking of the heavy rain that showered Arcadia Bay.

With her laptop finally up and running, Chloe navigated her way to the flash drive, eager to explore its contents and what kind of odious secrets Wells had hidden on his computer.

She felt a pang of guilt before she opened it, however. The thought of digging through the digital contents of a dead man's computer felt immoral, unjust.

Then she remembered that this was the very man that had a considerable contribution to Max's death, and the thoughts of shame were quickly washed away and replaced with bitter determination.

She wandered through countless folders and files, mostly ranging from staff emails to outgoing letters to parents.

Glossing over the meaningless contents, she guided herself to the student files for Blackwell Academy.

She scrolled down the list until she reached the 'P's, eventually furiously clicking twice on the file marked 'Prescott, Nathan'.

To Chloe's dismay, the file was empty, a completely blank page of white without a word or image on it.

She cursed louder than she had intended and was irritated by the absence of the file she had been anticipating to see.

She resumed exploring, looking through every potential location for any eyebrow-raising information, but to no avail.

Eventually, however, Chloe's arduous search was rewarded as she came across a well hidden folder labeled 'Prescott Deal'.

It was everything she had been looking for, emails, letters, personal information all regarding the deal that Wells had between him and the wicked Sean Prescott.

It contained messages regarding everything that Wells had done for Prescott, and vice versa. Messages clearly depicting their agreement to allow Nathan to dominate Blackwell without repercussions, including allowing him to carry a firearm with him.

Chloe internally celebrated at her well deserved victory and swiftly copied the entire folder onto a separate flash drive, being sure to preserve its existence with her life.

It was all the evidence she needed to bring Prescott down, numerous emails regarding their fraudulent businesses all available at Chloe's disposal.

It was only a matter of time before she would have Prescott by the throat, and soon, in prison.

Vengeance for her deceased friend was inching ever so closer to her, and the conclusion to her excruciating journey was just out of reach.

It had been too long, but Chloe was determined to finish it, bring everything to a close.

She jumped at the sound of breaking wood below her, muffled by the floor. Echoing footsteps rumbled from underneath her and she felt shivers run up her spine. Inaudible voices rang below, voices that Chloe did not recognize as her mother's or David's, and she began to tremble as the footsteps grew closer and closer, ascending up the stairs towards her room.

She dashed to the corner of the room across her bed, where the very same revolver that she had nearly ended her life with rested amidst piles of trash in disarray.

Her fingers fumbled as they grasped the firearm, but she finally settled with a firm hold on the wooden handle and she aimed the gun carefully at the door, resisting her body's urge to shiver in fear.

With a faint click, the door opened ever so gingerly, and three men entered her room, all wearing black trench coats.

Chloe scowled when she recognized the man in the middle as Sean Prescott, impishly beaming as he casually entered the room, his eyes fixated on Chloe's.

The other two men remained silent and stood by the wealthy man, their hands dug into the trench coats, assumedly resting on guns.

"Chloe Price?" Prescott finally spoke, a manipulative character radiating from him.

"Back the fuck up." Chloe threatened as she tightened her grip on the weapon. She knew that only one round was chambered in the gun, but which cylinder it was cased in was beyond her knowledge. Amidst her haste, she hadn't bothered to check, and she would only have to hope for the best.

"Let's not get too hasty here." Prescott placed his hands in front of him in a sign of surrender, but Chloe refused to be deceived.

"Give me one good reason why I should blow your fucking brains out right now." Her aim steadied, and she felt confidence rising as the looming fear began to fade away.

"For starters, my men here are both equipped with weapons, so already you are outgunned." He took an arrogant pause. "Secondly, I didn't come to fight. I'm here with good intentions." Chloe scoffed at his foolish remark.

"Bullshit. Tell Thing One and Thing Two over here that if they don't drop their guns right now, I'll send their boss to Hell." Prescott could only chuckle.

"Charming, this one. Miss Price, I come here because you have something of mine that I would like back. That is all."

"Yeah, what?"

"Information. Information in which you stole without any right."

 _He has to be talking about the flash drive. How would he know about that?_

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"Don't drag this on longer than we have to. You broke into Ray Wells' office late night and grew the audacity to steal from his personal computer." Chloe's confidence began to diminish. "Your step-father may be a complete fool, but he does know his way around security cameras, particularly ones that can remain hidden in a certain individual's office."

 _Fuck._

"You're not getting shit. Now I'm not asking again, step the fuck back right now, Prescott."

"So little respect. It's a shame youth these days just don't acknowledge authority."

"Step. The fuck. Back. _Now_." Chloe began to sweat profusely, but her aim still focused on Prescott's forehead.

"I really didn't want to have to do this, Miss Price."

"Get the fuck out of my house!"

"Oh well. Good meeting you." Prescott's hand dove into his coat pocket and withdrew just as quick in a single swift movement, revealing a suppressed handgun, similar to the one he had used to murder Wells.

Chloe made an effort to retaliate and she pulled the trigger, only to be aghast when she heard the familiar click of an empty chamber.

Before she could try again, the room was pierced by the intense 'pop' of a suppressed gunshot, and Chloe felt a sharp pain penetrating her stomach. She grimaced in pain and glanced down to be overwhelmed by horror as she could only helplessly observe her shirt become tainted by crimson. She clutched the wound, releasing her tenacious grip on the gun, letting it fall to the floor with a clatter. Her body weakened and she eventually collapsed onto the hard wooden floor into a fragile seated position with her back leaned against her desk.

Prescott approached her slowly as her vision began to blur, agonizing pain washing down on her as grueling seconds passed.

By instinct, her bloodied hand reached up for her bullet charm, and the trinket stumbled and shook as it became stained by her own blood.

She strained her vision and focused on the necklace, staring deeper into its details than ever before.

It was no use. Her body was too weak. Too damaged, but she refused to die. She fought through the unbearable pain, and the familiar sensation began pouring in gradually.

She focused harder, fighting the toughest battle of her life, which was against herself. It was like pushing an anvil up a steep hill, no matter how hard Chloe forced it up, it would resist.

The pain only grew and the struggle only heightened, but Chloe continued to protest, using all the remaining life within her to flashback.

Then she did.

The world spiraled around her.

Her vision blurred.

The colours faded.

Prescott and his men disappeared and Chloe was returned to an empty bedroom, but the wound was still present.

Her breathing grew heavier and she clutched the puncture hard to slow the blood loss.

It was at this point that she couldn't bear it anymore. She wanted to keep going, but a haunting thought in the back of her head held her back, persuading her to let go.

Tears ran down her cheeks, mixing with sweat, and her whimpers of agony echoed within her own head.

 _ **Chloe.**_

Chloe opened her eyes. She scanned the room for the source of the voice but all she saw was herself, sitting in her chair and browsing through Wells' files.

 _ **You can't give in. Not now.**_

"Max…"

 _ **Please. You've come too far to stop now. I'm begging you Chloe, you have to keep going. Please.**_

"I can't stand it, Max. It…it hurts so much…"

 _ **I know it does, but just fight a little longer. You have to. Do it for me.**_

It was all she needed to hear to bring her back into life.

"Okay…"

She clenched her fist and struggled to lift herself up, immediately sinking back down to the ground when the pain grew to be too much.

Chloe cried from the relentless torment but tried again and again.

In one final push, she used all the strength she had left to rise up, shrieking from the torture as she balanced herself on the desk.

She was only inches away from her past self, one that was oblivious of what would come.

Chloe released one hand from the death grip on the desk, almost stumbling back onto the floor, but stabilising herself at the last moment.

With one enervated thrust of her hand, she reached into her reflection and merged with it, just as she did before with her younger self.

The rush of exhilaration returned and Chloe was sucked into an abyss.

Chloe inhaled a desperate gasp for air as she surged into reality. The agonizing pain that one cursed her had vanished, and she felt completely normal again.

Her heart raced faster than it ever had and her breaths were heavy and frenzied, as if her lungs were fully drained.

She frantically patted the area in which she had been shot, but she felt no wound or dampness from blood.

Her dire heaves turned to sighs of relief, adrenaline rapidly surged through her veins and Chloe struggled to calm herself down.

Eventually, she felt stable enough to continue, but she realized that she did not have much time left. Prescott would arrive within moments and she would only be trapped in a limbo.

She snatched the flash drive, leapt to her feet and bolted for the gun, snatching it and rushing to her closet as fast as humanly possible.

Chloe dove inside and waited, expecting Prescott and his goons to arrive any second.

A breaking door.

Thundering footsteps.

The click of her bedroom knob.

Through the gaps in her closet door, Chloe peered out as Prescott entered the room with authority, his men following closely behind.

Chloe snapped open the cylinder of the revolver and spun it until the single bullet within was the one ready to fire.

 _One shot. It's all I get._

She hadn't planned this far, how would she manage to kill Prescott and then also deal with the burly men that protected him? She would have to improvise.

She exhaled a deep breath, but quietly so that the men outside wouldn't hear.

 _If all goes wrong and you get shot again, just deal with it and flashback again. You can do this, Chloe._

In her head, it seemed so easy to just flashback just as before, but she knew it would take more than a simple action. She wasn't willing to suffer that pain once again.

In a swift movement, Chloe emerged from the closet and pulled the trigger, wounding Prescott in the lower abdomen which sparked a loud shriek of pain. Before his men could respond, Chloe took advantage of the element of surprise, hurling her gun at the head of the first guard, then leaping over to the next to drive her foot into his groin. The first goon was knocked out cold after a perfect throw from Chloe, and the other groaned in pain before the girl booted his head to render him unconscious as well.

Her attention returned to Prescott who was feebly reaching for his gun, and just as he drew his weapon, Chloe struck his hand with her foot, sending the gun across the room.

Prescott roared in pain as he clutched his injured hand and Chloe heaved from the rush of excitement.

Feeling confident but resentful, she knelt down in front of Prescott and swung her fist into his face, sending the man's head back.

"Clever girl." The wounded man scoffed and muttered his words, trying to maintain his authority which had evaporated into nothing.

"You killed my best friend." Chloe spat.

"I didn't do anything with that."

"Bullshit! You had everything to do with it! She's dead because of you!"

"I say good riddance." Chloe became infuriated by Prescott's remark, so she drove her thumb deep into his bullet wound, causing him to howl in pain.

"Say that again, I fucking dare you." She withdrew her thumb and Prescott scowled at her with ferocity.

"You have no idea what you've done. What the fuck are you even gonna do with me?" Prescott's tone turned from governed to purely hostile, he had finally quit the act.

Chloe dove into her pocket and withdrew the flash drive containing the folder regarding the deal.

"What the fuck is that?" Prescott squinted at the tiny device as Chloe held it in front of his face.

"I'm sure you recognize it. Take a closer look." His expression changed from fierce to anxious as he realized what it was, he knew perfectly well.

"No…"

"When the police get their hands on this, you're fucked." Prescott growled as Chloe waved the drive gripped between her fingers. Her eyes went to the back of the room, where the black metal of Prescott's handgun somehow shone even in the darkness. "But not if I'm the judge of it."

Chloe strode to the gun and picked it up before returning to her previous spot, towering above Prescott.

She aimed the weapon between his eyes, her index finger slowly easing onto the trigger.

"You…you wouldn't" Prescott's voice shuddered and Chloe's grip on the handle sharpened.

"You let your son do it to Max. It's time you pay."

The pressure on the trigger began tightening ever so slowly, closer and closer until it the gun would fire.

 _ **Chloe, no.**_

"Max?"

Prescott's face swapped to a puzzled expression, wondering who his assailant was talking to.

 _ **You can't do this.**_

"Why the fuck not?"

"Who the fuck are you talking to?" Prescott spat.

 _ **If you kill him, you're just as bad as Nathan.**_

"If you don't want me to kill him, why don't you just influence me like you always do?"

"You've gone fucking psycho, you know that?" Chloe chose to ignore Prescott's taunts and instead focused on the sound of Max's voice in her head.

 _ **Because…something in the back of my head says that I should leave this up to you. I feel like I've controlled you through the whole way, especially when I prevented you from killing Jefferson. I want to trust you to make the right choice, but that doesn't mean I can't try to convince you to do what I think is right. I know you want him dead, so do I, but you have to know that killing him will only make things worse for you. Please, do the right thing, Chloe.**_

Frustrated, but knowing that Max was right, Chloe tried to lower the gun but the other side of her that demanded vengeance resisted.

She wanted justice for Max, and she knew that killing Sean Prescott would grant her the sweet relief that she desired, but everything that Max had stated felt correct and moral.

Then she looked back to that very day when she had nearly taken her own life.

She had decided to let fate take the wheel, and whether it was by pure luck or the choice of the mystical force of destiny, Chloe was still standing this very day.

Tonight, she would do it again.

She stomped across the room to where David's revolver lay, and she grabbed it with a ferocious grip.

Chloe withdrew the magazine within Prescott's gun and extracted a single 9mm round from inside.

Glad that both weapons fired the same caliber, Chloe released the revolver's cylinder and inserted the single bullet into one of the six empty chambers. She tossed the other pistol onto the floor and viciously spun the cylinder before snapping it shut with her eyes closed.

"What…what the fuck are you doing?" Prescott began tensing up, fearing for his life.

Chloe glared back at the frightened man.

"Letting fate decide."

Leaving the man dazed and panicked, Chloe aimed the weapon at Prescott's head.

No regrets.

No looking back.

No more running.

Her grip stiffened and her finger began applying pressure.

Prescott shut his eyes, petrified.

The air within the room seemed to disappear, and the sounds of tapping rain from outside slowly faded away to silence in Chloe's head.

Chloe pulled the trigger.

* * *

 **A/N: ;)**


	9. Forget the Horror

**Chapter 9: Forget the Horror**

The crack of a gunshot shattered the silence that had filled Chloe's cluttered head.

She flinched at the startling noise but settled herself, feeling guilty, but content.

Before her lay Sean Prescott, a crimson hole centred on his forehead, blood trickling down the side of his face.

A lifeless expression haunted the man as the image began burning itself into Chloe's head, something that would never go away for as long as she lived.

At that moment, she knew her life would change, she carried the blood of Prescott on her hands, and although he had well deserved it in her eyes, the police would not agree with this level of punishment.

Chloe let the gun fall to the floor, the clatter echoing in her ears and mixing with the ringing of the gunshot.

"I'm sorry Max." Chloe's eyes refused to leave the dead ones of Prescott.

 _ **It's okay, Chloe. You made your choice.**_

Max's voice was almost a whisper, cold like ice enough to send a shiver up Chloe's spine.

It wouldn't be until after an empty few minutes before Chloe would regain herself to move.

She strode across the room and snatched a sizeable backpack that sat in the corner of the darkness.

From there, she began cramming various items inside it, mostly her clothes that were carelessly tossed inside.

She scrambled around the house, grabbing whatever she felt would be of use; medicinal supplies from the bathroom, her phone, and her wallet.

With her backpack now full but more items at her attention, she rushed for the garage to grab an old suitcase her step-father had kept.

She threw it open and began shoving handfuls of the numerous canned goods that David had stored in the garage, consciously muttering an apology to her step-father as she left back into the living room, but not without snatching a 9mm pistol from his gun cabinet.

Chloe returned to her room, sweating from the strenuous work she was committed to, and she scanned the area to ensure that she wasn't leaving behind anything crucial.

A thought sparked into her mind, one that she cursed herself for forgetting so easily.

She dove for underneath her bed, dragging out the small cardboard box labeled 'Pictures', and flinging it open.

Ignoring her picture with Rachel, she dug around until her eyes rested on a picture of her with Max, one from their childhood.

The two of them boasted pirate costumes, Chloe beaming with a captain's hat perched on her head with Max letting off a peaceful smile while her left eye was blinded by an eye-patch.

Chloe smiled, reminiscing in a time when she didn't need to worry about death or chaos, a time when it was just her and her best friend against the world.

She wished more than anything to simply return to those days and remain there forever, but she knew life held other plans for her, ones that she needed to follow.

She sunk the picture into her pocket, grabbed Max's journal that sat neatly on her shelf, and bolted out the door, taking one final glance at the lair that carried so many memories within it, as if it was in the air.

With the backpack slung over her shoulder and the suitcase in her hand, Chloe stumbled down the stairs and inhaled one final breath of the air in her home before fleeing.

The sound of crashing rain was painted with the grumble of a jittery pickup truck.

* * *

Chloe's eyes shot awake and her body shot up as she gasped for desperate breath of air.

She familiarized herself with the foreign surroundings of a decrepit motel room illuminated by the morning light.

Chloe scratched her head and rubbed her eyes before turning herself to let her legs hand over the side of the bed.

She approached the compact CRT television that rested on a drawer across from her bed, flicking it on to the news.

She amped the volume to a reasonable level before entering the bathroom and splashing her face with a douse of cold water.

Her eyes met her reflection through a faded mirror, and her moist face glistened under a flickering light.

"News from the small town of Arcadia Bay as the body of the wealthy Sean Prescott was found in the bedroom of what is usually a tranquil neighbourhood…" The anchor on the television caught Chloe's ear, and she stormed out of the bathroom to catch what he had left to say. "Police have identified the fingerprints on the handgun to be that of nineteen year-old Chloe Elizabeth Price. She has very noticeable dyed blue hair and is 5'9. If you have any information regarding Chloe, please contact the Arcadia Bay police department using the number on your screen."

Chloe shut the television off and cursed under her breath. With her status of a wanted fugitive now official, she knew it wouldn't be long before someone in the motel would recognize her. She gathered whatever possessions that were strewn about across the room, stuffing them into her suitcase and bag.

Knowing now that her vibrant hair acted as an immense disadvantage to her, she stretched her beanie over her head, ensuring that every possible strand of hair was covered.

She sprinted out the door and down the hallway to the checkout counter, where a middle-aged woman sat comfortably on a chair with a lit cigarette between her lips and a newspaper shielding her face.

Chloe cleared her throat assertively to get the woman's attention, which only prompted an irritated glare.

"What?" The woman rudely asked, withdrawing the cigarette from her mouth and exhaling a plume of tobacco smoke.

"I need to checkout." Chloe replied, her fingers furiously tapping at the counter's rough wooden surface.

The woman grumbled before turning to the aged computer that rested in shambles in front of her. Chloe was surprised that the machine somehow still worked.

"Name?" The woman asked, her tone still rather aggressive.

"Price." Chloe was almost reluctant to speak her surname, now knowing that whoever she spoke to may have learned to associate that name with murder.

As the abrasive woman drummed away at her keyboard, Chloe's eyes were drawn to the miniscule television that sat in the corner behind the counter, displaying the same news channel as Chloe had watched from her room, still describing the murder of Prescott.

Her patience was beginning to grow weak, and anxiety filled her head.

"Okay. Keys." The woman's demand brought relief. Chloe slammed her room key on the counter, and a wrinkly hand dragged it away. "Alright, you're checked out."

Chloe took the cue and ran.

* * *

Drowsiness began overcoming the tired Chloe as her arms struggled to maintain their grip on the steering wheel.

Her eyelids were becoming weary as the truck started to gently swerve about as it sped down the highway.

Chloe's collapsing eyes were eventually shot awake by the sound of a blaring car horn from behind her, causing her to swiftly correct her truck that had nearly dove into the adjacent lane.

 _Fuck. I need sleep._

She had tried to avoid turning into another motel due to the constant fear of being recognized.

The incident back at her first motel had been too close, and Chloe refused to take that risk again.

During her strenuous four-hour drive through Oregon, Chloe had pondered deeply regarding whether or not she had made the right choice, or more correctly, if fate had made the right choice.

In her mind, the idea of destiny claiming Prescott's life sounded surreal and almost like fantasy. However, with what she had endured the past month, the theory wasn't completely out of the realm of possibility.

Chloe knew that letting Prescott live would have never satisfied her thirst for vengeance, the idea that the man who had been the root cause of Max's death still breathing was something she was certain that she would never be content with, but was the sacrifice truly worth it?

Was constantly living on the run, watching her back around every corner something she was willing to withstand?

She wanted to convince herself that she could. She had fought through impossible obstacles for everything to culminate to the previous night. It was all she had looked forward to, all that she was still living for. Now that it happened, Chloe felt more relieved and fulfilled than she had been in a very long time.

With the sun still beaming high in the pale blue sky, Chloe's sleep deprivation had become too unbearable. The countless nights of insomnia had finally arrived to haunt her, so she knew she had no choice but to find a place to rest.

Another half hour or so of driving took her to the secluded parking lot of a dock lined with numerous small shops and stands along its lengthy boardwalk.

The connected street boasted an equal variety of stores and restaurants, with crowds of people flocking up and down the sidewalk, entering and exiting the establishments regularly.

 _Okay, just stay calm and maybe you'll find a place to sleep for the night._

Chloe reluctantly left her truck with her beanie pulled over her lively hair and her head towards the ground.

She took long strides across the sidewalk, avoiding all eye contact with other pedestrians, however, she felt as if she was drawing more attention with her abnormal behaviour.

As she rushed down the path, dodging passing pedestrians as she went, the hypnotising smell of grilling meat filled her nose, prompting the girl to halt by instinct.

The smell reminded her of her empty stomach, and the fact that she hadn't eaten a proper meal in quite some time.

 _Not now, you can't have people noticing you._

The smell was too enticing to ignore, and Chloe felt herself on the verge of drooling.

 _Fuck that smells good though._

Her mind told her to keep moving forward, but her stomach disputed, gluing her legs to the very spot in which she stood and persuading her further and further to grab a quick bite.

 _Fuck it, just get something takeout._

She shamefully walked into the small restaurant, disappointed in her own lack of self-control.

Entering the building allowed her to catch a true whiff of the mouth-watering smell of fast food, and Chloe was beginning to get desperate.

Following an anxious few minutes of waiting for her double cheeseburger to be served, Chloe charged out of the restaurant and jogged to a nearby park bench on a wooden platform overlooking the breathtaking view of crashing waves at the coast.

Chloe perched herself down on an empty seat as far away from other people as possible, still keeping her head down.

She dug into the paper bag and began devouring her burger, moaning in bliss now that her cravings were satisfied.

She continued to wharf down her meal, captivated by the tranquil sounds and scene of the gorgeous Oregon coast, finally being able to appreciate the sights of nature.

 _Max would love this. I bet she could take some great shots._

The imagination of her and Max indulging in the beauty of the scene flowed into her mind, a dream she would never fulfill which only sunk her heart further.

 _I miss you so goddamn much._

She helplessly pulled out the picture of the two dressed playfully as pirates from her jeans pocket, and stared deeply into the image with her vision slowly blurring from the tears forming in her eyes.

Every second her eyes remained locked onto the picture, the more she desperately needed Max.

She had finally avenged her, something she felt was deserved, but there was still a gaping hole in her heart that would never be filled again.

"I'm so sorry…" She muttered a whisper to herself, while still hoping Max was out there listening. She half-expected a response from her friend in her head, but only silence remained.

Feeling that she had over-stayed at the dock, she wiped the tears from her eyes and stormed back to her truck, refusing to look back.

* * *

A calming sunset graced the coast as Chloe exhaled a puff of smoke from her exasperated lips.

With her cigarette on its final few drags, Chloe continued to be mesmerized by the sight before her, a stunning view of waves drifting gently over the sandy beach down below, as a decrepit lighthouse towered over her as she sat with her legs curled to her chest on the hood of her truck.

The location was almost too reminiscent of the one back at Arcadia Bay, and since Chloe hadn't been successful in finding a decent motel to rest in, she opted to sleep uncomfortably in the cabin of her pickup truck, parked next to a desolate lighthouse.

She had just woken up to the descending light and felt compelled to relish the view.

Taking the final drag of her cigarette and finally tossing it away carelessly to the side, Chloe's attention turned to her necklace.

Its colour was tinted with a warm shade of tangerine from the natural light, and its surface glistened as Chloe stroked it with her thumb.

It reminded her of the pain it had caused. This power had been given to her by some mystical being or force to change the world for the better, and it had, but along the way it had shattered Chloe's world piece by piece.

Although it did save her life, she knew that such power would be perilous, and deadly if placed in the wrong hands.

Chloe tore the necklace off from her neck, snapping the thin string that had been wrapped around.

She clutched the item in her hand with tenacious force, before hopping off the hood of her truck and sauntering to the edge of the cliff.

After a short pause of reassurance, Chloe hurled the charm into the depths of the ocean below, sending it deep into the water's abyss out of her sight.

The trinket plummeted before exceeding Chloe's view, never to be seen by her again.

Proud and relieved, she returned to her truck, sputtering on the ignition and leaving the site to continue her journey.

Chloe didn't know where she would travel to, or if she would even get far, but she knew that giving up was never an option.

She had fought beyond her own capabilities throughout the past month and now that her struggle had ended, she was left in a daze on where to go next.

Who knew, maybe she would travel to Los Angeles to fulfill what Rachel had dreamed of.

Whatever she did, Chloe knew she would keep fighting.

Never looking back.

Never stopping.

Never giving up.

 **THE END**

* * *

 **A/N: So, here we are. I'll try not to make this too awkward.**

 **This is it, the end to Lost Without You. I'm sorry if this was unexpected and you expected more, but my brain is dry for this story, and I didn't want to drag this out any more than it needed to.**

 **I hope you enjoyed this ending, it was what I had planned from the start, and although I have made a few changes here and there since its conception, it's still more or less the same.**

 **However, this may mean the end for Lost Without You, but it is the beginning of its upcoming sequel, which will follow Chloe's life as a wanted fugitive. It's still in the planning stages and will come much later, at least after I complete 24/7.**

 **By the way, I now have a Twitter, you can find me SourNoodlesFF. I'll post updates on my stories and also tweet out my releases when they come out. You can also expect progress reports on the aforementioned sequel.**

 **Other than that, I want to thank every one of you that supported this story the whole way. I started this fanfic simply because I had the idea and wanted to put it down somewhere, and I thought that maybe it wouldn't hurt to show it to the public. I never anticipated it to get any recognition at all, and here we are sitting at some modest numbers in terms of views and followers. Your comments and reviews kept me going, and they were the only reason why I wrote the rest of it in the first place. I would have never had any incentive to finish this if no one liked it. Lost Without You also made me realize how much I love writing. It's grown to become a hobby of mine now and I can only thank you guys for helping me realize it. That means there's more to come from me, so expect more stories in the future.**

 **Anyways, that's enough mush. Thank you guys so much for this experience, it's been a hell of a journey and I'm happy I made it with you.**

 **Stay awesome, you're all the best.**


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